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janetbrown711 · 3 years

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"Why should you get to be angry? It's my life you're messing with" Yakko?

Yakko was still angry, even though it had been over a week since Max had visited.

His siblings' hostility towards Max was really getting on his nerves. Sure, Max caught on pretty early and no one was hurt, but still. It threw everything off- though what that 'everything' was, Yakko wasn't sure.

All he knew was that there was this... pulse, or energy. Like a magnet- Yakko had wanted to touch his face. Why? Max had almost not stopped him- what did that mean?

The fluttering, the blushing, the magnetism, what did it mean???

And why was it every time Yakko felt like maybe he'd figure it out, something or someone always interrupted. Even when Max wasn't there- Yakko would just be trying to sort things out in his head or reading a book, but either his sibs, or his classes, or his parents, or something else distracted him.

That didn't stop him from trying though, as he and Max still continued to write to each other daily, already setting up for Max to visit again tomorrow. He constantly read and reread Max's letters- absorbing every word to craft a perfectly witty yet sincere response. He valued Max and his friendship, he didn't want to ruin it.

And hey, he could tell he was improving. Over the letters he managed to never bring up his grandmother even once- and most of his conversations with Max avoided her too (for the most part... he was working on that). At least he knew other topics now.

However, he was still peeved at his siblings for their attempts to ruin it. Sure Max was clever enough to catch it- but if he hadn't? What if Max had never wanted to see him again after that? What if he had gotten hurt? It was totally irresponsible. He thought Wakko and Dot were better than that.

So- yeah. He was mad, though perhaps angry was too strong. He had mostly buried his anger deep within himself when his father pulled him aside and told him not to get mad at his sibs and that they just needed time, but the anger still resided deep in his chest. Reading the letters did calm him a little though, so that was nice.

However, the day before Max was to come over again, as Yakko went to reread through the letters he found the box that he stored them in to be empty. He searched through every possible drawer and every possible location in the entire castle before admitting what his gut instinct had told him.

His letters were stolen.

And he had a theory on who the culprit could be.

.o0o.

Yakko found his younger brother in his old room, the one nearby the room once belonging to their grandmother, with the private letters all sprawled out before him as he read over them.

All attempts to keep this a civil conversation were thrown out the window in that instant.

"Wakko, what the hell are you doing with my letters?!" Yakko did at least attempt not to shout, but he caught his brother off guard, as he nearly jumped to the ceiling in surprise.

"Y-yakko- I-i thought- I'm just-" Wakko scrambled to gather his mind.

"These letters are none of your business! Why on earth do you have them?!" Yakko approached, angrily taking the letters back.

"I-i thought you read them all- I thought you didn't need them- I-i just-" Wakko fought Yakko, pulling on the letters.

"These are private letters full of private emotions, Wakko. You have no business- I haven't even read this one! What is wrong with you?!" Yakko yanked harder, causing Wakko to let go.

"I-i just- Max is just-"

"Max is just what? Being my friend? Being the first person outside of my family that's ever connected with me?! God forbid I have a life outside of you two!" The elder brother fumed.

"H-he's just trying to take you away! You can't see it because you're like- in love with him- or something!" Wakko bit back.

Yakko froze.

"What did you say..?" Yakko's eye twitched.

"Y...you're like- in love with him. He's just trying to take you away- he's just like grandma!" Wakko argued.

"Max is nothing like grandma." Yakko snapped. "Max has made me the happiest I've ever been in my entire miserable fucking life! You should know that after snooping around my private fucking letters!" Yakko shouted, his voice cracking slightly as he felt himself begin to tear up.

"I just- god-! How could you be so selfish? Why can't you just be happy for me?!" Yakko demanded to know.

Wakko opened his mouth to utter some kind of reply, when without warning, their mother burst through the door.

"What on earth is all this shouting about?" She demanded to know. Wakko attempted to blink away his tears, which unfortunately caused them to fall so instead he picked up what letters he could before storming out without another word.

"Yakko. Tell me what happened. Now." She locked eyes with Yakko, deciding it best to give the younger brother a moment to himself.

Yakko sighed, wiping his tears from his eyes as he sat on Wakko's old bed. Lena was quick to join him, slowly rubbing his back.

"He took my letters. he's been reading them- all of them." Yakko explained bitterly. Lena slowly nodded.

"I just- those are private thoughts between the two of us- it's not just my privacy, it's Max's too. I-it's like Wakko has no respect for either of u-us," Yakko hiccuped a little.

"Now Yakko, you know that isn't true. Wakko thinks the world of you," Lena reminded softly. "He's just... confused. And scared."

"Oh yeah? He can join the club then," Yakko sniffled.

"Look... I know you're going through a lot with Max right now: new emotions, new situations, and the like, but... you've been plenty selfish too, especially in neglecting your siblings, Yakko. They've tried getting your attention several times but they feel as though you won't give them the time of day," Lena held one of his hands.

"I-i haven't-..." Yakko's instinct was to protest but as he reflected upon the past few months, he recognized the truth behind her words.

"Shit..." He muttered.

"Now, I'm not going to make you cancel Max's visit for tomorrow, but do know that after he's gone I want you to spend some good quality time with your siblings, alright? I'm sure Max will understand your situation plenty," Lena said softly yet firmly.

"Y-yeah... I guess I've been pretty wrapped up, haven't I?" He chuckled weakly.

"It's alright dear, so long as you do your best to recognize the mistake and make up for it through your actions," She kissed the top of his head. Yakko sighed and leaned his head on her shoulder.

The pair stayed like this a moment, before Lena decided she had waited long enough and it was time for her to seek out Wakko. However, as she started to head through the door, Yakko stopped her.

"Mom?" He asked.

"Yes?"

"Do you-... Am I...?"

Yakko bit his lip as he tried to think of what to ask.

"How do you know if you're in love?"

Lena chuckled softly.

"Hard to say, as it truly is different for everyone... But from what I remember... it's a sense of comfort and peace; being at peace with who you are and who they are to the point where you constantly want to be with them for that peace... if that makes any sense." Lena shook her head.

"Then again, when has love ever made any sense?" She snickered.

"Uh-huh..." Yakko pondered her words.

"I'm sorry dear, I'm afraid that's something you'll have to figure out on your own," She explained. "I'm afraid I have to go to your brother now though, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah- that's... yeah," Yakko nodded and Lena headed out, leaving Yakko to sort out this new information.

.o0o.

Wakko hated shouting.

It made him feel small- like he was four all over again. God- why did he always just make things worse? He never backed down, even when he said something stupid.

He hid in one of the storage closets near the tower. It was dark and cramped, but it was where he felt he ought to be. After all, he didn't want to be seen.

He gripped the letters in his hands tighter. He didn't know why he took them that time- it was dumb. He was already caught- Yakko already knew he was a thief.

But it was to protect him against Max-

Max.

Just that name made Wakko's blood boil and angry tears increase.

He hated Max.

He hated him a lot. Yakko wouldn't see it- he was under his siren spell somehow. Wakko thought taking those letters would show him some kind of clue to unraveling it, but instead, it just showed how messed up and lost Yakko was. It hurt to read each word and Yakko's notes on the letters- the little question marks and underlines and occasional heart. Wakko hated it.

Wakko hated Max.

He hated him very, very much.

He was taking his brother away- his brother would never ignore him unless there was something very sinister forcing him too- which Max clearly was.

R...right?

Wakko continued crying.

However, after a while of crying in the dark a soft knock interrupted his tears as the door slowly opened to reveal his mother, who slowly sat on the ground outside the closet and opened her arms. Wakko hesitated a moment, before practically leaping out into her loving arms.

"There, there Wakko..." She soothed as he sobbed in her arms.

"I-i w-was just- i-i just-" he couldn't get his words out.

"I know darling, he shouldn't have shouted so much," she stroked his head.

"I-i just..." Wakko attempted to breathe enough to calm himself.

"I know... you don't trust Max yet, and it's scary seeing Yakko connect so quickly, I know," She moved him so she could see his face, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Wakko sniffled. "H-he's just trying to take him away."

"That's not true, Wakko. Max is just spending time with him- Yakko is just getting... a little caught up is all," Lena sighed.

"B-but he never ignored me like this before he met him," Wakko frowned.

"I know Wakko... he hasn't done his best with balancing everything out..." She said. "But... you haven't made it exactly easier either."

Wakko blinked at that.

"What I mean is... you haven't given Max a shot yet. You rejected him without giving him a shot to prove himself to you," Lena said.

Given him a shot..? Was she insane? She would never suggest he "give grandma a shot" so why was she suggesting to give Max a shot? Because he "seemed" friendlier and more charismatic???

"Wakko, look. Whether or not you like it, Yakko really really likes Max. The least you can do is give him a day to prove himself, alright?" Lena made him look at her.

She looked so desperate for him to believe her, it made him sad. She was clearly under Max's spell too.

It became clear to Wakko he had been underestimating Max. If he wanted him gone for good and to free his family from his influence, he was going to have to take drastic measures.

"Maybe..." he mumbled for her sake. Lena smiled softly and kissed the top of his hat.

"Yakko will really appreciate it," She said.

"Yeah, okay," Wakko looked at the ground.

Yakko will appreciate it when he's free of Max's stupid curse- all of them will be.

"I have to go back to work- will you be okay?" Lena asked. Wakko nodded. Lena slowly stood, helping Wakko up as well, before giving him another hug and a kiss on his hat.

"It's gonna be okay Wakko, just give him a chance," She said.

"Okay," he said, giving a weak smile. Lena gave a similarly weak smile back before hugging him once more and walking away.

'Give him a chance.' Oh please- Wakko would give him a chance alright.

Wakko stormed right back into that storage closet, climbed up to the tallest shelf, and pulled down the highest key, before storming right on down to the tower- quickly and furiously unlocking the massive lock just to be sure, and-

Yes, they hadn't bricked it off quite yet.

Wakko now had the perfect to keep Max far away from his family for the rest of his life.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

#my fics #animaniacs #wakko warner #yakko warner #queen angelina ii #angelina warner #it's finally done!!!#sorry for the wait #and the shitty chapter-#this took a shit long time to write-#but hey! we got hella angst coming up #so look forward to that ;3 #(which should be coming out a lot sooner fingers crossed)#if you read this i love you #and again so sorry for the wait

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always-overthink-nicknames · 3 years

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Harry & Ron friendship dynamic

Summery: I’m obsessed with Steve and Bucky friendship dynamic so I just made a one shot with Harry and Ron with the “don’t do anything stupid” line cos this is how I imagine their friendship if Harry Potter had more humor

A/N: Yes, the characters are OOC FIGHT ME I don’t respect J.k. Rowling anyway (human rights✊🏳️‍🌈)

Triggers: like 1 swear word

Since Harry started attending Hogwarts he hasn't spent a single holiday with his "family", and he was happy about it. Incredibly happy, actually. During Christmas the school was incredibly festive and welcoming, something he never experienced with the Dursleys. At Easter the castle was quiet and peaceful since nobody was singing any carols. Nothing special happened during this time, except for the one day they had Easter egg hunt. The lack of people and lessons made Easter break one of Harry's favorite times of year. Ron would always stay with him which meant they had time to roam the corridors and school grounds as they wanted, just admiring the scenery. Hermione would usually leave to spend the holidays with her parents, but she has stayed with them a few times. Easter with both of his friends was the best one yet.

In his sixth year however he was staying alone. Molly announced that this year they were celebrating at a relative's house with even more family members and she really wanted Ron to attend. The ginger was upset, he didn't care about spending time with aunts and uncles he didn't even remember names of, he cared for Harry, he cared for his friend. But his mum made her case clear with a howler she sent him. Hermione didn't want to leave Harry alone so she wanted to stay instead of the ginger but she already promised her parents she would come and they missed her since she stayed with the boys for that year's Christmas. So it was sealed, Harry was staying alone.

'Take care of yourself.' The girl said seriously after hugging the raven haired boy for the millionth time. 'I'll be fine, Hermione. You don't have to mother me.' He assured her. 'Who else will?' The girl muttered remembering that one time he tipped the whole Christmas tree on himself.

More and more students entered the train, quickly packing it full. 'I'll go save us a compartment.' Hermione said, noticing the rush. The boys nodded in understanding. The witch hugged Harry tightly once again before skipping off into the train. The two gryffindors were left alone.

'Honestly, that woman.' Ron shook his head. Hermione always nursed them, probably for the best because when left alone they always ended up damaging something or themselves. They both loved their female friend even if her concern got a little much.

Ron's blue eyes met Harry's green ones, hidden behind thick glasses. The ginger was concerned for his friend. He knew Harry suspected Draco Malfoy to be a death eater and as much as he dismissed the thought it wasn't too crazy. Still Harry has been snooping around too much for his own good, seriously he ended up with his nose broken before the school year even started properly. Maybe that's what altered Ron's next sentence.

'Don't do anything stupid until I get back.' He said. Harry snickered, he tilted his head looking up at Ron with his small light-hearted smirk. 'How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you.' He sassed. It's times like this Harry's inner Slytherin really showed. The ginger boy rolled his eyes before opening his arms inviting him in. Harry instantly hugged Ron tightly. He was always hungry for affection, something he never got from his guardians. Many people commented they were "too physical" for two boys but they didn't care.

The train huffed out steam telling the boys it was time to part. Ron gave a final pat on his friends back before pulling away. He picked up his suitcase and gave Harry a last look. 'For real, don't get killed.' He said taking a few steps backwards not taking his eyes off the golden boy. 'Don't worry, I have plot armour.' Harry said with a cheeky grin on his face. 'Git!' Ron yelled with one foot already in the train. 'Prick!' He called back. The tiny doors shut on Ron and the train's wheels started moving very slowly. Harry could see the outline of his friend waving at him through the tinted window. He waved back. He'll miss them.

A/N: I also wanted to make a time skin to the Hogwarts war but I’m very tired and just wanted to finally write sometime because A R T. Anyway feedback is much appreciated.

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marshmallow-phd · 3 years

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Heart of Thorns

Genre: Beauty and the Beast!AU, Romace, Angst

Paring: Tao x Reader

Inspired by: These moodboards created by @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme (x) (x) and my absolute obsession with Beauty and the Beast

Summary: Lost in a forest during a storm, you find shelter in a crumbling castle that had been hidden away for years. The master of the house shut himself away, refusing to engage with the world. Too intrigued and running away from your own fears, you refuse to leave no matter how much he tells you to, wanting to try and find the heart within the beast.

Part One I Part Two I Part Three

A tuttering sound was the first thing you were aware of when you came to. Then it was the cold press against your forehead, making you flinch back with a slight groan. Eyes still squeezed shut, you swatted at the thing to make it go away. Your head throbbed but the cold press was somehow worse.

“Now, now. I know it might be uncomfortable, but you have a nasty goose egg on your forehead that needs attending to.”

“It’s hardly that serious.”

At the male’s voice, your eyelids snapped open. You pushed back into the pillows once you realized who it was.

Standing at the foot of the bed with his hands behind his back, staring down at you, was the man who had frightened you nearly to death. He wore scowl on his face under the mask that had been replaced. A brief memory of what lied underneath flashed in your mind.

“It’s alright, dear,” Mrs. Chan cooed at you. “You’re safe. Despite that tumble you took down the stairs.” She punctuated that statement with a sharp glare towards the man.

“I didn’t push her,” he growled defensively.

“No, but you didn’t have to frighten me like that,” you snapped. This was a new sense of bravery for you, but he deserved it. A simple “please don’t go come in here” would have sufficed.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t snoop around a place where you are a guest.”

“I wouldn’t have been a guest if you had your way initially, given how you wanted to throw me out when I was still suffering from a fever. What kind of a gentleman is that?”

The man cleared his throat, having been outdone in the argument. “Just stay out of the west wing.” The tails of his jacket bellowed behind him as he whirled on his toes and left the room.

“Does he always have to be so dramatic?” you mumbled to yourself.

Mrs. Chan tutted at you. “I thought you were supposed to be the most obedient out of your siblings.”

You lowered your eyes, feeling shame for having betrayed her trust. “I’m sorry. I heard a noise and I was worried someone was hurt.”

“Sometimes I wonder if your heart is too soft for your own good,” she said. “I’ve seen how your sister bullies you around and how you are with the less fortunate, even with your own current predicament.” Ringing the wet cloth out over a bowl, she sighed. “Get some more rest and then, after breakfast, we’ll go walking outside, alright? Help you get your strength back. Maybe even satiate that curiosity. Can’t really get into trouble out there.”

“Is he always so obnoxious?” you asked. Though you knew they shouldn’t, your thoughts were focused on the man in the mask. His temper should have been enough for you to ask to go home, but you were curious about the scars – both the physical and the invisible ones.

“The master has had a hard life these past five years.”

That was hardly an answer to your question, more of an excuse. But you decided that maybe another route was better. “Why does he wear that mask?” From you could remember, the scars didn’t seem severe enough to constitute hiding them all the time.

“He doesn’t like people staring.”

“But wouldn’t people stare anyway?”

“He’d rather have them stare at the mask then at-” she caught herself before she could reveal too much. “What’s underneath,” she finished. She must not have known that you saw the lord without his mask last night.

“Does he even go out for people to stare?”

“You are quite the curious child, aren’t you?”

You laughed just a little bit. “Father always said that I wanted to know more than what I should.”

“He’s right.” Letting out a long breath, Mrs. Chan straightened the blanket and patted it flat. “I supposed you should know a little, if that would make you a bit more cautious.” You straightened up in anticipation. It didn’t escape Mrs. Chan’s notice, who shook her head. “Years ago, Lord Huang was engaged to a… very beautiful woman. No one is sure where she came from, but the young lord was in love. It was the first time we’d seen him so happy since his father passed. It was good to see him so spirited. But… one night, after they were wed, there was an argument. I couldn’t hear what it was about, but Lord Huang was very upset. It calmed down eventually, and everyone went to bed. Sometime before the sun came up the next day, there was a fire in his bedroom. It took so long to put out we feared the worst. Lord Huang was unconscious when they broke the door down. He barely survived, but not without the incident leaving its mark.”

You swallowed thickly. “And… her?”

“She died. From the smoke, they think. Her body was found in the adjoining room. Her skirts were scorched, so they think she might have started out in his room and then tried to run to safety but didn’t make it.”

“Is that what you think?”

Mrs. Chan picked up the tray on the nightstand with more force than needed. “I think a tragedy happened that night and it changed a good man. Scars that you can see aren’t the only ones that can’t fully heal.” She exited the room, leaving you behind with a slight feeling of guilt.

But did you really do anything wrong? Was it not right to be curious about your less than gracious host? Many people had tragedies, but that didn’t mean the answer was to shut yourself away and be cruel to those around you. You never made any complaint about not having a mother. And when your father was tricked into ruin, you made the most of your new situation.

You stewed on the story Mrs. Chan had told as you buried yourself deeper into bed. The sun wouldn’t be rising for a few more hours and no candles had been left lit. Even if you wanted to add light into the room to see by, you didn’t know where to find a match. As sleep was the only choice you had, you closed your eyes and dreamt of a white mask.

Mrs. Chan brought you breakfast after the sun had risen and she even had a new change of clothes. They were a bit fancier than your usual garb (Cosette would have been snatching them as quick as her thin hands would allow), but you thanked Mrs. Chan as she helped you get dressed. The rose red color of the dress was striking against your skin, but the blue overcoat created a calming effect for the color as you buttoned it closed under your chest.

It was a bit colder outside today. The sun was hidden by thick clouds and a breeze ruffled at your skirts. Your fingers were stiff, so you kept them warmed with your arms that crossed in front on your chest. You were mostly silent as Mrs. Chan talked. She complained about Mr. Chan’s snoring and the rising price of fish. All of this was underlined with a sense of humor. The only time you had seen at the upmost serious was when she told you about the fire. Her presence was becoming one of comfort for you, one that you didn’t want to leave. It was the motherly figure you had been denied most of your life. The two of you were laughing at a story of Mr. Chan chasing after chickens that had gotten loose when Lord Huang came down the vast steps that led to the upper back of the castle. Mrs. Chan stopped you as he came closer and you both dipped into a low curtsy.

“Is there something you are needing, Lord Huang?”

Lord Huang gave a flickering glance in your direction before turning back to Mrs. Chan. “Leave us.”

You swallowed with panic. She wouldn’t really leave you alone with him, would she?

Apparently, yes, she would. A look of pity was sent to you before she curtsied again and walked away. Lord Huang motioned with his head to follow him. For a few minutes, the two of you continued to walk the grounds, no words spoken from either of you. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you went through every possibility for this sudden interest in you. Was he testing you? Was he going to question you further? Or yell at you again for invading his privacy? Without warning, he stepped in front of you, blocking your way.

“If you’re well enough to walk on the grounds, you’re well enough to go home.”

He snarled. He couldn’t be used to disobedience of this magnitude. “And why is that you don’t want to leave? To find out more about the reclusive lord who killed his wife in a fire?”

You shook your head fervently. “No. It has nothing to do with you.” Though you were still curious to know more about him, that was an ant compared to the mountain that loomed over you back home.

“Then why?” he snapped.

“My family is forcing me to do something I don’t want to do, and I need time to figure out how to get out of it.”

With a clearing of his throat, he placed his hands behind his back and looked out into the fields. “And what is it that your family is trying to force you do to?”

“They want me to get married.”

He scoffed. “Marriage? That’s what you’re running away from?”

“Yes. Because I don’t love him. A marriage like that isn’t worth entering.”

“Love in marriage is a fairytale. It’s foolish to believe in that.”

Anger was boiling the blood under your skin. Who was he to say such things? Didn’t he do exactly that? “If that’s so, then why did you marry your wife?”

Lord Huang’s nostrils flared as veins jumped in his neck. “That’s is none of your business! Now, go and live your fate!” He began to storm away.

“No, wait, please!” You grabbed hold of his coat sleeve with both of your hands. He could have easily ripped away from your grip, but instead he stopped and glared at you from over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I should not have said that. Please, don’t make me go back. Not until I’ve figured out a way to stop it.”

After a deep breath, he seemed to calm down, if only a little. In a low, steady voice, he said, “Women don’t often choose who they marry.”

“No,” you agreed, still clinging to his coat, “a woman’s lot in life is often limited, but I would like to have a chance. A chance to experience the love I’ve read about so many times.”

“I told you. It doesn’t exist.”

“Yes, it does. I’ve seen it. In my father’s eyes when he speaks about my mother. I might not have ever seen them together, but I know they loved each other. I know my father still loves her. Even with three children to take care of, he never married again.”

The muscle in Lord Huang’s jaw twitch as he clamped down on his back teeth. With each second that he stared at you, hope bloomed.

“One month. You have one month to figure things out and then you must leave.”

You nearly leapt at him in joy. “Thank you!”

He face twisted into an expression that “Now, go find Mrs. Chan. You shouldn’t be out here too long in this cold.”

You obeyed without hesitation and headed for the stairs. When you reached the top, you turned around to find Lord Huang staring up at you. Feeling grateful, you sent him a smile before heading inside.

Mrs. Chan was busy preparing a warm soup for lunch when you found her in the kitchen. She’d told you to go on to your room and she would bring a bowl to you when it was ready, but you declined. Now that you were no longer confined to that single space, you wanted to spend as much time out of it that you could. The only worry now was your limited time here. You hoped and prayed that you could find a solution to your predicament.

“Mrs. Chan?”

“Yes?” She kept her concentration on the carrots she was chopping for the soup. Taking the wooden plank that held the small orange pieces, she slid the vegetable into the soup and turned back to the onion.

“Was your marriage to Mr. Chan… arranged?”

“More or less so.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t arranged in the traditional sense,” she said. “I was much too stubborn and Mr. Chan was too shy. So, our families created situations where we would see each other and be forced to get to know each other.”

“But did you fall in love?” you asked with a slight desperation.

“Yes, we did. Our parents might have put us in the same room, but the rest was our own doing.”

You sighed. That sounded like a nice way to fall in love. It was, after all, still their choice.

“Are you thinking about that man your family wants you to marry?” Mrs. Chan guessed.

“Yes,” you replied solemnly. “I’ve known him for a long time, but I’ve never thought of him that way. I don’t think I ever could but-” You shrugged your shoulders, defeat slowly creeping over you. “The inheritance from my mother’s family is going to run out and most merchants won’t work with my father unless someone were to vouch for him. Gao has found success in many of the port cities. His word would help my father restore his reputation.”

Mrs. Chan tutted in her usual way. “That is too much wait for your shoulders to bear. But,” she flashed a smile at you with a strange glint her eyes that you couldn’t quite read, “I’m sure a solution will come in time. A girl like you deserves to be truly loved by your husband.”

You let out another sigh. Part of your mind was leaving the kitchen, traveling back to the fantasies you’d dreamt as a little girl lost in fairytales. “I hope you’re right.”

For another few hours, you stayed by Mrs. Chan side, eating lunch with her and occasionally helping her with the chores – whenever you were allowed to, that is. She insisted on doing most of the work herself. “It’s my job,” she huffed. “I would be horrible if I let a guest do so much.” You could only laugh at her response.

Eventually, she sent you on back to your room to rest, though you weren’t really tired. Waiting for you on your bed was a pile of books that hadn’t been there this morning. The titles and authors told you all you needed know about the contexts: romances. Tragic romances, to be more precise, but not all of them ended sadly. Taking off your coat, you sat on the bed and flipped to the first page of the novel that had been on top. In the back of your mind, as your eyes raced over the words, you couldn’t help but think of the one who brought these to you. Out of the three suspects, you were sure it couldn’t have been Mrs. Chan. There wouldn’t have been enough time for her to leave you, find these books, and place them here before getting so far on the soup. Mr. Chan didn’t seem like the kind to leave you novels in your room. But what possessed Lord Huang to do such a kind thing?

A giggle bubbled your throat. He seemed impossible, a walking contradiction. You were finding yourself a little fascinated by the man, even with his short temper and gruff appearance. He couldn’t have been all bad since he’d relented to letting you stay. Shaking your head, you forced your attention back on to the story in your hands. One kind gesture did not erase his earlier behavior.

Over the next few days, you did little to think of a solution with your family. You were too enthralled in the novels to remember to devote time to that particular problem. Instead, you developed a bit of a game with yourself. After breakfast, you would search the halls for a new study or hideaway, looking around the room before finding a spot to sit and read. When the time for your midday meal came, you met Mrs. Chan in the kitchen and ate with her, sometimes Mr. Chan joining the two of you as well. He would sit next to his wife, not speaking but always smiling at her. You rarely saw Lord Huang. Perhaps a brief pass in the hall or a glimpse of his black hair retreating into another room. You didn’t know where he slept or how he spent most of his days.

One evening, after you had finished all the novels but hadn’t found the bravery to venture to the library again to switch them out for new stories, you stared out the window, memorizing the silhouette of the trees against the setting sun. You wondered about your father and if he was worrying himself sick over you. Lu might have gone into the woods in search for you, only to find the broken carriage in the ravine. Cosette would be put out that you never made it to the city, and she wasn’t immediately restored to where she thought her proper place in society was.

A knock interrupted your thoughts. Mrs. Chan announced herself and then came in, a gown fit for a ball in her hands.

“Lord Huang has requested that you dine with him tonight.”

“Why?” You didn’t mean to sound so surprised or disgruntled by the request, but he’d made it clear before that he wasn’t interest in your presence here by any degree.

“He simply asked for me to help you get dressed and bring you down to dinner,” Mrs. Chan said. A blind man could see the smile she was struggling to keep off her lips. “Come now. We don’t want the food to get cold.”

You stood up from the window seat, eyeing the forest green dress. “Do I have to wear that?”

“His Lordship is used to a certain fashion during dinner.”

You bit your tongue to hold back the inappropriate comment you were dying to make. Even if it was just you and Mrs. Chan, you thought better to keep it to yourself.

As soon as you were laced up in the dress you wanted it off. The bodice was stiff and the arms too tight that you could hardly move them. Mrs. Chan allowed you to keep on your more comfortable boots since the skirts were long enough to keep them hidden at all times. She escorted you out of your bedroom and down the stairs to great dining hall.

The high ceiling tempted you to yell out and hear your voice echo against the golden trim and intricate paintings of heavenly beings. Flames roared in a fireplace to your right that stood taller that you by at least a full head. In the middle sat a long table made of a dark wood you couldn’t name. It stretched out nearly the entire length of the room. At least twenty people could fit comfortable around it, perhaps even more. But only two dining sets were placed for the upcoming meal: one at the head of the table and another at the other end. Apparently, this wasn’t to be a very social dinner.

Lord Huang entered from the other end and sat down with any greeting made in your direction. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to do the same, so you continued to stand awkwardly off to the side of the room. You had never been to a dinner so… intimate before. Mr. and Mrs. Chan both entered soon after, the former helping you into your chair while Mrs. Chan filled your plates with meats and vegetables. Though you knew it wouldn’t happen, a part of you was clinging to hope that they, too, would be joining you for the meal as well. They disappeared through the door that lead back to the kitchen and you were alone with Lord Huang.

At first, neither of you spoke. He didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You could have been a ghost or an invisible monster sitting in that chair and it would have hardly mattered. Each of your bites were slow. Partially because your stomach was churning with nervousness and partially because the sleeves of the dress hardly gave you room to bring the fork to your mouth.

“You don’t seem comfortable in that.”

You looked up, unsure if you’d really heard him speak or not. But he had spoken, and he was staring you, waiting for a reply. “It’s not really my usual style of choice.”

He went back to looking at the food in front of him. “That’s all we have, except for Mrs. Chan’s clothes and the few simpler dresses you’ve already been given.” You nearly snorted at the suggestion that those dresses were “simple”. “Tomorrow I’ll have Mrs. Chan go into the city and buy you some new dresses to make you more comfortable.”

“Oh, no that’s not necessary. I don’t want to put more work on the poor woman.” Nor did you want to come across as ungrateful. You feared any misstep and he would throw you out before the month’s deadline came.

“She won’t mind. She’s been nagging me to get you a few things anyway.”

You weren’t surprised by that at all. Mrs. Chan was very much the person to tell her employer how to make a guest in his house comfortable. “Thank you. And for the books as well.”

He nodded, continuing to eat his meal in a manner you considered a bit too casual. “Did you enjoy them?”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “Yes, I did. Although, I couldn’t help but notice a slight theme among them.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Lord Huang said with true sincerity. “Those are typically the books I read that involve romance.”

You put down the fork, the clang of the metal against porcelain echoing loudly in the room. “Why does that make me so sad?”

And there was the scowl again. “I didn’t ask for your pity.”

He hardly discouraged you. “And here I am, feeling sorry for you.”

Shaking his head, Lord Huang stood up from his chair. “If you’re through with those books, you may go to the library and find new ones to read more to your liking. But stay out of the adjoining room.” Projecting his usual dramatic flair, he stormed out of the room.

You weren’t sure whether to scoff or roll your eyes at his response, so, in the end, you performed both and then went on with your meal. He might have been finished, but you were still hungry. And besides, Mrs. Chan worked hard on the meal. Someone should stay around to appreciate it.

An odd shift happened, starting the morning after the dinner. Now that you were allowed back in the library, you spent hours perusing the shelves to find another adventure. Though your heart longed for romance, you were easily distracted by the novels of other genres. Since Mrs. Chan was gone for the day to pick you up new clothes and other supplies in the city, you were left to fend for yourself. Amongst your findings was a family ledger. Most of the writing near the top was faded, but the last name scribbled on top the family tree was still clear enough to read.

Huang Zitao.

So that was Lord Huang’s name. You liked that name. Huang Zitao. It flowed nicely and had a noble sense to each syllable.

A dash connected the name to another, indicating a marriage. But whoever’s name was once there had been scratched over so severely that the pen had broken through the paper. Thinking it best to move on, you closed the ledger and returned it to its spot.

The next morning, Mrs. Chan was back, and you were treated to a glorious breakfast of scones and sweet buns and other luxurious treats. Between bites, you bravely asked for confirmation on what you had discovered. She confirmed that that was indeed Lord Huang’s name. You didn’t mention the other entry that had been scratched out, thinking it was best not to bring that sad subject up again.

Once again, you spent your day in the library, switching between books until you were called for dinner. The placement for you had been moved from the other end of the table to the right of the head. You were extra cautious during the meal since you were closer to Lord Huang, but you were also much more comfortable. Not only because of the dress Mrs. Chan had picked out for you, but because this new set up felt less formal, less rigid. Lord Huang spoke more today, first greeting you and then inquiring about what books you had discovered in his library. After dinner, he asked if you would walk with him outside before it became too dark and you agreed before you really thought it through.

He was gentler in these moments. The scowl was no longer a constant presence and his voice had softened when he spoke to you. And the two of you spoke about everything. He told you about his voyages on the seas and the countries he had visited. You described the little trinkets your father had brought back for you from each of his own trips. Some you had been able to save from the collectors, but most you hadn’t. You described the one you regretted most at having to let go.

“It was a cylinder,” you said, holding your hands out to form the vague shape of the box. “There were letters on the outside that you had to get in the right order for it to open. It was made of brass, I think, with the most beautiful carvings on the ends. I loved to play with it. For hours I would try to figure out what the combination was. It was a game my father and I played. He would put a small prize inside and I would have to figure out the new code he come up with. He would leave hints around the house. I miss that. Possibly even the most out of everything.”

Lord Huang had stopped walking. His gaze on you was intense, though unreadable. Suddenly, he grabbed your hand and started pulling you back towards the castle. “Come with me.”

He led you through the halls of the castle until he came to a room you had never entered before. It was located in the western hall where you were forbidden to wander into again. Leading you inside, Lord Huang kept the door open and walked over to the dresser on the far side of the room. Your mouth hung open as you took in the sight of the extravagant bedroom. The bed was big enough to hold four people at least and the dresser and side tables shined in the fading sunlight as if polished with gold. The sheets were made of silk and embroidered canopies hung from the top of the bedposts.

“(y/n).”

You turned your attention back to Lord Huang, who had opened the doors of the top half of a wardrobe. You walked in deeper to the room, curious as to what he wanted to show you. From the wardrobe, he pulled out an almost exact replica of the cylinder box your father had given you. A gasp was pulled from your lips as lord Huang handed it to you. With careful fingers, you took the cylinder, a smile spreading across your lips.

“It’s called a Da Vinci box,” he explained. “Whether or not he actually invented it is up for debate, but I’ve always liked the name.”

“It’s beautiful,” you said. The metal smelled vaguely of brass, just like your father’s. A few of the symbols were faded. It was beautiful. Though reluctant, you went to hand it back to him, but he shook his head.

“No. You can keep it. To replace the one you lost.”

“I… I-” You shook your head, unable to find the words to say.

“Even if you try to give it back, I’ll just sneak it into your bag.”

You weren’t sure why, but that subtle reminder of you someday leaving stung at your heart. But you pushed it aside and held the box close to your heart. “Thank you, Lord Huang. It means the world to me.”

The beastly façade that he had held on to since you met him cracked. He was smiling at you. A genuine smile. And it was making your heart leap in your chest in a way you had never experienced before.

After that night, you spent most of your days with Lord Huang. You ate each meal with him, even breakfast, and then the two of you would spend the mornings in the library. He would show you books and maps and other baubles he had collected when he used to travel the world. Once lunch was over, the two of you would either go back to the library or he would take you to the stables where you would then spend the afternoon riding through the vast fields of his estate. His large shire, Zeus, was as black as night, but as happy as a summer’s day. The mare that Lord Huang had you ride was smaller, with a golden coat and pure white mane. The horses were opposites but got along a great deal.

The daily rides were exhilarating. You never went beyond the trees, but you always felt safe.

One afternoon, a rainstorm rolled in without either of you realizing. At first, only a few drops splattered on your shoulder and in the grass. But within a single blink, the rain came down harder, reminding you of that night in the woods.

“Follow me!” Lord Huang yelled above the noise. He was already soaked through and you were fairing no better.

The horses galloped through the storm. Neither of you slowed until you were finally under shelter in the stables. Lord Huang dismounted first, undoing Zeus’ saddle as quickly as possible to get the horse more comfortable. Once back in his stall, Lord Huang turned and helped you down. You watched silently as he took care of the horses, helping them dry and eat. He was gentle with the creatures, petting their necks and noses and telling them how good they were. You stood off to the side, smiling widely at the human in front of you. When he turned back, you didn’t bother to try and hide it. Even when he stepped closer, so close that you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes, you refused to stop smiling.

With his right hand, he reached up and caressed your cheek. Your breath caught in your throat. Moments went by. The two of you simply stood there, no sound but the rain on the wooden roof and the occasional whine from a horse. Your gazes were equal in intensity. You wondered– no, you hoped that he would lean down and press his lips to yours. But, instead, he cleared his throat and took a step back.

“You had a blade of grass on your face.”

Your eyes fell to the straw-covered floor. “Oh.”

“Come on.” He placed a hand on your back. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold. Mrs. Chan will never let me live if you get sick again.”

The smile was back on your face, if smaller this time, as you headed back inside the castle. He escorted you all the way to your room before bowing and walking back down the hall. Giggles like a schoolgirl were bubbling up in your throat. It wasn’t until you were safe inside your room did you allow them out.

“What is all this laughing about?” Mrs. Chan entered your room, her hands on her hips.

“The rain caught us by surprise,” you lied. “I haven’t been caught in the rain since I was a child.”

Mrs. Chan tutted at you before going over to the wardrobe to help you change for dinner. The charge you had felt in the stables was still there as you and Lord Huang ate. His eyes would flicker to you and then fall back down to his plate. He would occasionally stumble on a word or forget them entirely. You would fill in the needed speech, finding the moment rather endearing.

Yes, you were certainly beginning to enjoy yourself here.

Thoughts of Gao and your family’s wishes were far from your mind. It was only after your evening walks, when he dropped you off outside of your bedroom door and you went inside, alone for the first time since you’d woken up, did you remember the deadline Lord Huang had given you.

It was nearing closer. A mere few days away now. You wanted to ask him for more time, to let you stay a little longer. Truth be told, it was no longer about avoiding your family. It was this place you didn’t want to leave. You would miss him. And you worried that you would never see him again.

Though his past and secrets still scared you, the man who walked with you, laughed with you, gave you no sense of fear. When your skin brushed his, there was no chill of fright, only warmth and a wish to feel it again. He was a man who hid himself from the world, but let you see parts of himself. You still didn’t have the whole picture, but you knew that if you stayed, you would eventually have it all.

The night before the deadline, Mrs. Chan was helping you get ready for dinner. Lord Huang had requested that you dress in a higher fashion this time around. You were confused by the sudden change in atmosphere but held your tongue. Mrs. Chan was putting pins in your hair as she chatted away about the dances she used to attend when she was a young girl.

“But I didn’t look anywhere near as beautiful as you do tonight.”

You scoffed at the comment. “I’m sure you were much more radiant.”

“No, I dare say, I never did.” Mrs. Chan lowered her head until she was now level with you, catching your eye in the mirror. “You have brought such light into this home. It had been dark here for so long, I almost forgot what his laugh sounded like.” She kissed your temple in a motherly way before straightening up and staring for the door.

“Mrs. Chan?”

She stopped with her hand the doorknob. “Hm?”

Your heart was already beginning to break. The love you had been shown by her was more than you had ever received at home. What if he said no? What if he wasn’t feel what you were feeling when you were together? If he wasn’t, the heartbreak might be too much. “I’ll miss you.”

She smiled and answered cryptically, “Maybe you won’t have to.” She left the door open as she faded into the hallway.

You spent another minute or two catching your breath. Did she know that you wished to stay longer? Was there hope that he would say yes? Or was there an even deeper meaning to her words?

With a newfound encouragement, you hurried from your room, careful not to trip over the blooming skirts around you and headed down to the dining hall.

Lord Huang was already waiting for you. He stood in front of the fireplace, staring into the fire like a phantom. All this time, he had never taken off the mask. You never asked to see what was underneath, either, in the proper light. The memory of the scars had begun to fade from your mind. You feared that the simple question would take away all the trust you had earned over the last several weeks. Turning away from the fire, Lord Huang softly smiled before walking over to you. He took one of your gloved hand in his and kissed the back of it, right above your knuckles.

Dinner proceeded as it always had. You sat to his right and the two of you conversed, dancing around the elephant that sat in the middle of the room. You tried to find the right time to ask him if you could stay. But even in the moments when the conversation hit a lull, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. The elevated atmosphere of the evening gave you a small hope that he would be the one to ask instead. By the time dinner had ended, neither of you had spoken a word about it.

“(y/n)?”

You looked at him. “Yes?”

“I would like to show you something.” He held out his hand expectantly. You didn’t hesitate to take it and he pulled you up from the chair with haste.

Leaving the dining room, however, he slowed his pace, never letting go of your hand. He didn’t speak again either. The only clue you had to where you were going was the fact that he was leading you up the staircase and to the library. He didn’t stop once inside. He bypassed the books and desks and ladders that had become so ingrained in your memory that you could describe them in detail with your eyes closed. It was only when he came to that door did you start to understand.

Lord Huang took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before finally opening the door. You weren’t surprised by what was inside. It hadn’t changed since that first day. The lonely piano was still the only object in the room, a single window letting in the moonlight. Lord Huang pulled you inside and closed the door. He didn’t let go of your hand until you were both seated on the leather bench.

“My father gave me this piano,” he told you as he ran his hands over the wooden covering that kept the keys out of view. “I played it nearly every day. Music always made me happy. But… but after the fire, I couldn’t bring myself to play any song. I lost my passion for it, my reason for playing. I never came in here again.” He looked at you with such hope in his eyes. “I might be a little rusty, but can I play for you?” You nodded eagerly and he lifted the covering to expose the keys.

The notes were hesitant at first, unsure. Soon, though, the fingers remembered how to dance across the ivory keys and the room was filled with music. You wanted to close your eyes to hear to block everything besides the melody, but Lord Huang was enchanting in the way he played. His heart was exposed for the world to see and you didn’t want to miss a moment.

All too soon, the music descended into one final note. You stared at Lord Huang in wonder. This was a new side to him that you had never experienced before. The way he played with a childlike enthusiasm… you were in complete awe. Unable to stop yourself, you reached out and pushed a lock of hair that had fallen while he played away from his forehead. He caught your wrist before you could bring it back.

“(y/n).” It was the only word that was uttered before he leaned in closer and pressed his lips to yours.

At first, there was hesitation on both sides. Neither of you was sure how to proceed. Then his grip on your wrist relaxed, letting it go to bring you closer to him by your waist. You followed his movements like a dance. Behind his head, you pulled off your gloves, wanting to touch his skin with your own. You cradled his face in your palms. The edge of the mask dug into your wrist. He lifted you up and moved your skirts in a skillful way so you were sitting on his lap. Girls in the city used to giggle as they gossiped over the things they had done with their suitors. You had never joined in, having never been in a situation like this before. But now you understood the tingling under your skin. The softness of his lips and the feeling of being held in his strong arms. You pulled back only for a moment. Fingers slightly trembling, you reached behind his head and pulled at the string that kept the mask in place. The mask began to slip away. A single word left in a whisper from your lips.

“Zitao.”

That one little word snapped Lord Huang out of his trance. He pushed you away. You barely caught yourself against the piano. He stood up and started pacing about the room, one hand over his mask to keep it in place.

“Zitao-”

He whirled on you. “I never gave you permission to speak to me as so!”

You gaped at him. You couldn’t understand why he was suddenly acting like this. “What did I do wrong?”

“I want you to leave.” His shoulders were heaving up and down. His free fist was balled at his side. But you stayed firm.

“No.”

“I said get OUT! Leave this castle and never come back!” He grabbed you by the arm and threw you from the room. The door slammed behind you, cutting you off from Lord Huang. The shelves rattled from the force.

Tears streaming down your face, you ran back to your room. You tripped over your skirts, despite having gathered them in your arms. You were too distraught to keep your balance. As soon as you made it back, you started ripping the dress off. You yanked out the pins and pulled at the bracelets until they set you free. Once you were released from the shackles, you threw yourself on to the bed and cried, cursing the day you met Huang Zitao.

Mrs. Chan woke you up early the next morning. If there had been any hope that Lord Huang had calmed down and changed his mind through the course of the night, it was gone the moment you saw Mrs. Chan’s face. She was without a single smile or twinkle in her eye. Her usually perkiness was gone, replaced instead by a distant seriousness. She hardly spoke except to give you an order. You were clothed in a simple dress and a cloak to keep you warm. Unknown to you, she had thrown your old dress away that had been ruined by the storm.

Mr. Chan was waiting outside with a small open carriage. He was already seated up front, the reins held tightly in his hands. Mrs. Chan helped you into the carriage and then placed two bags on the other side. Before you sat down, the feeling of eyes on your back ran through you. Turning around, you looked up. In one of the windows, you could see the faint figure of Lord Huang. He watched for a moment as you stared at him, then turned away from the window. Even as the carriage began to move towards the trees down a hidden road, you hoped that he would come running out the front door, calling for you to stay. But when the castle was no longer visible in the trees, that flame was snuffed out.

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tightaroundthewebshooter · 4 years

Text

love everything you do

Frank Castle/Amy Bendix

nff. 1.1k. no warnings. title and lyric from Training Wheels by Melanie Martinez.

read on ao3

(please note that Amys age has never been mentioned in either the comics or the show. I’ve made her 19 based on Giorgia Whighams age when filming)

_____________________

(when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit i do)

Frank likes Amy. Likes her enough to let her stay with him, once all that nasty business with the Schultzes was finished. She’s sweet, a little sassy, with an odd sense of humor, but easy to get along with once they found common ground. But Lord Almighty she could be a fucking brat.

It starts small, a couple of weeks after they start living together, with her barging in at 2 am while he’s trying to sleep, flipping him off when he tells her to be quiet. that's not too bad, but it grows from there. She starts insulting him, yelling at him, leaving her messes for him to pick, eating his food, and snooping in his stuff. Her mood swings are horrendous, no rhyme or reason to them, he can never tell when she’s going to be nice or when she’s going to be a bitch. But the worst part is that she starts staying out later and later, refusing to answer his texts asking if she’s okay, forcing him to stay awake to make sure she comes home safe. Because he’s fucking worried about her.

It comes to a head weeks later, in the cold early morning. She hands him a cup of hot coffee and he thinks maybe today will be a good day, and then she looks him dead in the eye and tells him she spit in it. It’s not that terrible, but it’s gross, and inappropriate, and as far as he’s aware he did nothing to deserve it, and so he finally snaps.

“Why are you such a fucking cunt?” he growls, and she suddenly looks so upset he feels like he’s the one who did something wrong. He stops feeling bad when she starts hitting him. She’s knocking the coffee out of his hand and onto the floor, pounding onto his chest and yelling at him for what he called her. It doesn’t actually hurt, but it’s annoying and stupid and he’s fucking tired, so he grabs her wrists in his hand and pushes her away, much harder than he meant too, so her back hits the kitchen counter and he sees all the fight leave her body and tears well up in her eyes. Shit.

Before he can even try to apologize she’s lurching forward to hug him, burying her face in his chest as she starts to sob. The sudden change in mood is confusing, but he puts his arms around her and pets her hair in an attempt to soothe her. That just makes her cry harder, shaking in his arms, and Frank just doesn’t know what to do.

“I’m - I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please, I just wanted you to pay attention to me.” she sobs, and Frank is at a loss for words. He had thought they were getting along great, but he hadn’t thought about how Amy might be more sensitive than him, a little needier. He really does feel bad now, thinking about all the times he came home just to lock himself in his room and pass out, ignoring Amys offers of food, or to stitch him up.

“Fuck, kid, don’t cry. I’m not mad at you, I’m sorry too.” it’s hard for him to apologize, but it’s apparently the right thing to do, because Amys loud sobs slowly turn into quiet sniffles and she pulls back to stare up at him with wide, wet eyes. She opens her mouth to speak, shuts it just as quickly, and he can almost see the gears moving in her head as she leans up on her toes and-

Kisses him. It’s wet and off-centered and fast, but it’s definitely a kiss.

She pulls back quickly, but she doesn’t leave, just looks up at him, expectantly waiting for his reaction, eyes still shiny from tears. He hates himself for wanting to kiss her back, hates himself because he can’t say he’s never thought of her like this before. She looks so young, and she is. 19, still a teenager, she shouldn’t want this, and Frank shouldn’t be indulging her.

He kisses her back anyway, tells himself it’s for her, to make her happy, but it’s for him too.

He lets her set the pace, lets her deepen the kiss, and slip her tongue in his mouth, and press even closer to him. She has to pull back for air eventually, lips shiny and cheeks red, and Frank is so hard he’s lightheaded. He ignores it, grabs her by the back of her thighs, lifts her up and urges her to wrap her legs around him, and then makes his way to the couch, gently laying her down.

Her hands shake as she helps him get her shorts off, but they’re pretty steady when she grabs his hair and pulls his head between her legs. He goes happily, uses his hands to hold her open, and gets to work. She’s already wet, almost dripping, so he goes right to tasting her, licking in as far as he can until he hears her moan, before moving to her clit, switching between lapping at her and gently sucking, not letting up until she starts to babble and squirm around.

She’s close, so he slides two fingers into her, curling them up to hit her g-spot, sucking harder on her clit while he does it, and it’s only a few seconds before shes coming, thighs squeezing around his head and cunt bearing down on his fingers.

The moment she relaxes he’s pushing himself up and unzipping his pants, grunting in relief when he gets his cock out. Amy looks like she’s about to fall asleep, but he grabs her hand and guides it to his cock anyways, showing her how to squeeze and twist her hand to bring him off.

She catches on quick, and when he tells her he’s close she pushes her shirt up and angles his cock to her belly, and he comes so hard his vision goes white.

By the time his breath is caught and his sight is back to normal Amy is asleep underneath him, shirt still pushed up and stomach covered in his cum. They need to talk about this, soon, but Amy looks more relaxed than she has in weeks, and he’s tired too, from the fight and the fuck, so he carefully lowers himself on top of her, and lets himself rest with his face tucked against her neck. The guilt is starting to creep in, but he forces it down, telling himself that the only thing that matters is Amy being happy. They’ll work it out.

#nff #my writing #frank castle/amy bendix #the punisher #amy bendix #frank castle

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cozycryptidcorner · 4 years

Photo

Chapter Two

“Morning, love, how are things going on your end?”

“Things are going swimmingly!” Your throat grinds with having to keep your customer service tone up, but you grit your teeth and keep going. “What time should I expect you tomorrow?”

“Around noon, I think. Just have a couple of errands to run beforehand around town, but it shouldn’t take too long! Do you need me to pick anything up from Tom’s Hardware?”

Oh, sweet lord, yes, anything to stall her. An extra ten minutes might be the difference between your job and your career’s untimely death. You turn around to concentrate, reaching for where you stashed your notebook. “Actually, Marge, could you pick up a couple of paints? I’ll send over the serial numbers via email.”

“Oh, of course, you must be extra busy with your crew gone! I’ll get that done for you. Anything else?”

You try to wrack your brain, but you can’t think of anything more, much to your disappointment. Neither can you come up with any wild goose chases to keep her away for some time. “No, Marge, nothing comes to mind. Oh- wait, wait, I was just wondering what the statue outside is na- uh, titled, so I can start designing something themed.”

“Er, oh, I think it was among the lines of Gala-something. Galactus? No, that’s not right… Oh, dear, my wife would know.”

That’s when you noticed that the bench where you set the statue down is decidedly empty. Your stress levels immediately pop right back up to maximum. After a moment, you realize that your jaw aches as you clench it hard enough to break your teeth. Quickly enough, you come up with a believable lie to get off the phone as soon as possible. “Hey, Marge- delivery guy’s here. I’ve got to handle this.”

“Of course! Talk to you later, dear. I’ll have Esther send you a text message with the statue’s information.”

You’re already running through the hall when you hang up, eyes scanning every crevice that could possibly be a hiding spot for a walking statue, but you can’t find him. He’s not in the common area, nor in the first couple of rooms that your crew had managed to finish furnishing before leaving. You call for him, not sure of his name nor what you might refer to him as, so it’s a weird mash of statue guy, and stone dude, mainly just focusing on “um, hey? Not done with you yet!”

After edging on the precipice of a panic attack, you spot his silhouette upon the top of the staircase. Letting out a loud, pissed grunt, you storm up, hand on the rail to steady your angry rampage, and then you look over to the doorway he appears to be aiming for. Oh, no. No, no, no, not on your watch. You speed your pace, throwing yourself in front of the door before he can do any damage to the precious collection beyond it. Unfortunately, your injured hand makes a somewhat awkward connection with the oak frame, and a dull wave of pain rushes through your nerves.

“You can’t just wander off like that,” you gasp, out of breath from the speed you pushed yourself to.

“A thousand apologies, love,” he says, though you can see the curiosity running around and around his head like a carousel. “Might I inquire as to the contents of the room?”

Your face goes a bit pink, you can feel the heat sparking in your cheeks. “No, no, you may not. Everything in there belongs to the owner, only she and I are allowed in there.”

The statue then places both his hands on the door as well, creating a barrier between you and the rest of the hallway. “What if I asked nicely?”

Is his face inching closer? “I’d say no.”

“What if I asked very nicely?” He pecks you on the mouth, far too quickly for you to register that it was even happening until after the fact. Unfortunately, instead of leaving what ask nicely up for interpretation, he adds, “with my tongue, on my knees.”

Everything feels like it’s going on overdrive because someone you just met is offering sexual favors, and you feel like if you open your mouth at all, anything that comes out is going to be nothing more than a high pitched squeak. Just when you think this situation can’t get any worse, oh, he gets on his knees, as though promising that he's not bluffing, but you are not exactly open to the fact that his hands seem to be wandering to the waistline of your pants. In a panic, you bring your knee up. Not with the intent to hurt him, no, you don’t want any more broken body parts today, you just want to have another layer between him and your clothing.

“No! No, not even if you-” you manage to get ahold of your voice, though struggle greatly with keeping it from screaming, “just no! No, thank you!”

Above all else, he’s confused, with leaves you rather puzzled in return, because did he honest to god expect you to let him eat you out job, much less pressed up against a door that holds, at the very least, a good hundred-million dollars worth of artwork inside? Unless you’re reading the situation wayyyyy off-kilter, which is super unlikely, especially given the fact that he’s been trying to kiss the ever-loving daylights out of you since he first started breathing. With a hard swallow, you push him away, foot on his collarbone. At least he doesn’t offer up any resistance as he stands, brow furrowed.

“Back to the kitchen,” you instruct, pointing down the hall and then placing a hand over your eyes. A puff of anger escapes your lungs, and then you do your best to get your shit together in the two seconds you allow yourself. “Now.”

He obeys, thankfully, because you don’t know what you would end up doing otherwise. Once his back is turned, you pat your pockets and silently chastise yourself for not carrying your keys around, because you’re not going to put it past him to come snooping around once your attention is elsewhere. Oh, god, your work, how are you supposed to get anything done when you’re most likely going to have to babysit the statue? You assume it’s going to be like keeping an eye on a toddler; turn away for two minutes, and the castle will burn down. You can’t imagine digging yourself out of that grave. Remember to lock the door, you think hard, hoping you’ll have a chance to do it later.

“Alright,” you try to think once you’re back at the table, clawing at something, anything that could make a semblance of sense on this hellish day. “Okay. Cool. The owner of the property is coming over tomorrow.”

The statue rests his chin on his hand, his elbow on the table, mouth out in a soft, sullen pout.

“Now, just to recap, the person who owns your fine ass is coming down to pay me a visit to make sure everything is going well. Do you think that things are going well right now?” You don’t give him a chance to answer. “Things aren’t going well, and I don’t know how I’m going to fix this.”

“Do you think my ass is truly that divine?” He perks up, sounding a little too pleased with himself.

”Focus,” you grind out, afraid that you’re going to snap the pen you’re holding clean in half. The first step to saving money is not to break any of your things, no matter how fucking stressed you are. “I need you to go out in the back while she’s here and pretend to still be frozen.”

“But won’t, er, Marge, was it?”

“Ms. Hopkins, for you. Only friends get to call her Marge.”

He hesitates for a moment. ““Surely... Ms. Hopkins won’t be upset at a miracle sent by the gods themselves? Not unless she wishes punishment like that which she has never experienced before.” He settles back on the bench, arms open as though offering an embrace. “I have been birthed from the ground by chisel and a steady hand, then given life through the power of love by-”

“I’m going to cut you off there.” You hold a finger up, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Not to give you a crisis of faith or anything, but that’s not going to be good enough. I don’t want to be responsible for what happens to you if scientists start getting involved, you’re going to like, end up in a lab somewhere, and you’ll never see the light of day again. So when Marge gets here, you’re going to go back to that pedestal, and you’re going to stand still. Do you understand?”

“What’s a scientist? Is it like a philosopher?”

You’re fucking doomed. “Forget that, I need you to promise me that you’re going to stay put while Marge is here.”

He lets out a loud sigh, rolling his stone eyes so that you can fully see just how badly you’re inconveniencing him. “I suppose I might, though being able to stretch after such a long time has been such a blessing. Are you really going to make me go back to being still?”

“For like an hour? Yes, yes, I am.”

“But I’m so stiff,” he’s acting like you just asked him to shoot himself in the leg, “and my joints ache so very much.”

“You’ll hurt more if you don’t do as I say.” It’s an entirely empty threat since you’re pretty sure the only thing that might cut through him is an industrial chainsaw, something that’s not exactly on hand at the moment.

“Is that a promise?” He says, voice suddenly sultry and full of allure.

You need a moment to step away from the situation before you try strangling him, if that would even do any damage. Does he even breathe? Maybe you should check on that before anything else. Clear your head out, settle your thoughts, reset everything back to zero. This is fine. You’re fine. Everything’s fucking fine. Even though it physically pains you to say it, you offer up one last plea. “Please.”

That seems to move him, if only slightly. “If it is truly that important to you, then I shall.”

A shudder of relief runs through your body.

”However,” he stands to his full height, leaning over until his face is remarkably close to yours, “I should think that I should perhaps stretch, to fully prepare for such a task. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You skillfully dodge his mouth, turning around and letting out a frustrated breath. “Then do some yoga. I’ve got a job to do, you’ll remember, one that involves things like work and time.”

“Shall I help?”

”No!” It might have come out a little too harsh, but you are not letting him get his rocky hands all over your paints and equipment. “I just need you to be in my line of vision at all times, okay? Can you do that?”

“Can’t take your eyes off me for one moment?” He asks, which is entirely true but definitely not within the context of the tone he uses.

You know what? Agreeing at this point is probably better for both your sanity and his cooperation. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes to the back of your head, you say, deadpan, “you’re absolutely correct, I can’t seem to be able to ;ook away from that fine ass of yours. Please come with me upstairs so I can start working without your presence for a second longer than I must.”

He doesn’t appear to detect the sarcasm dripping from your words and instead looks rather flattered. “I suppose I must indulge you, then. Very well, show me the way to your place of work.”

You don’t bother to mention that the entire castle is your place of work, and instead lead him back to the library. None of the shelves are in place, and the books themselves are safely in storage while you and every other crew can trample on through without worrying about accidentally destroying something old enough to be their great-grandparent. Everything seems good to go, so you start to begin, stirring up the thick paint in the cans to make sure everything’s even, and then begin. You have almost an hour of uninterrupted work before the statue begins to start fiddling with some things that he should not be touching at all.

“Question,” you say, beginning on another wall, “can you sleep or anything?” Or do you need to be watched 24/7, no rest for the wicked amiright.

“I suppose we’ll find out.” He lays on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, clearly bored out of his mind.

“Could you maybe put on some clothes?” His nakedness hasn’t bothered you yet, but with all his attempts to take off your clothes, maybe some change is in order.

He turns his head in your direction and looks at you like you just suggested that he should maybe take a leisurely stroll into the sun. “And deprive you of such a beautiful view? Darling, my love, I should think not.”

“Okay, okay, no clothes.” You resist the urge to let out a huff. “I’m so sorry to even think of such a thing.”

“All is forgiven.” He says, so very gently, looking back up at the electric chandelier.

Again, there’s the desire to let out a scream that could be heard from across the nearest ocean, but you do no such thing. Instead, you throw yourself headfirst into your work, hoping that at the very least, your ridiculous amount of progress might allow Marge to overlook some… other things. You forget what time it is until you realize that it is suddenly so difficult to see your work, and that’s when you look out the window to find nothing but black and stars. The sun must have set long ago, without you even noticing, which means that it’s time for you to eat something before you faint from a sugar crash.

“Do you feel hungry?” You ask him, looking at your phone for the first time in hours. There’s a text from Esther, Marge’s wife, waiting for you to view.

“I don’t know.”

“Wonderful,” you respond, “but I do. I’ll order some pizza, then, and I guess you can eat some if you feel hungry at all. Any preferred toppings?”

“Preferred what?”

You take a deep breath. “I’ll just order something, then.”

And so you do, making sure the statue is sitting at the table with an old Rubix cube you found in one of the many boxes stashed in the storage room. Thankfully, he seems absolutely enamored by it, so you take the time to phone in a local pizza delivery place. Perhaps you get one too many things than you’d manage to eat, just in case the statue might end up needing to eat like any other person, though having leftovers isn’t exactly the worst outcome if he doesn’t.

While you wait for your food to be delivered, you take the liberty of reading over the document that Marge’s wife sent. Blah, blah, blah, temple excavation, blah, blah, oldest intact statue from the Hellenistic period, blah, blah, something about Aphrodite, and then… “Galateos.”

That catches his attention like a gunshot. He stares at you, mouth open and closing as he tries to come up with something to say in response. Finally, voice strangled, he says, “that sounds familiar.”

“Thought it might,” you say, a lie, really, because you don’t really know what he might find familiar and what he would see as entirely knew. “Esther texted me some info about where you came from. It says that the plaque you were given called you ��Galateos.’”

He sits up just a tad bit taller, jaw clenched, eyes looking over the wooden table like it might offer some clues to what the word means. Finally, voice uncharacteristically dry, he says, “that must be my name.”

The way he says it, though, is unsure, almost scared, really. So you try offering a way out. “Is there something else you want to be called?”

He thinks about it, you can see the way his forehead crinkles and his eyes grow distant. But after barely a second of thought, he shakes his head. “No. Galateos is fine.”

“Alright, then, Galateos,” you try the name out. It’s long, and stiff, much like the way he had been complaining about his limbs a mere hours before. “Can I call you Gala? Or Teos? Or literally anything but?”

“You can call me ‘dearest,’ or ‘most beloved,’” he says, entirely serious.

“Galateos it is, then.” You look over the photograph of a pamphlet Marge must have ordered to advertise the statue, Esther even gave sent another picture of it open, revealing the block of text describing where they found him. “Do you remember being a statue at all? Or are you suddenly like…. Awake and stuff?”

He looks a tad bit troubled, looking down at his hands like he can’t quite place what their purpose is. After a moment of silence, he says, “I don’t know how to describe it. Darkness, forever. And then suddenly light. I didn’t care about the darkness while I was frozen because I couldn’t care about anything, anything at all. There were periods of warm and periods of cold, but neither of them were particularly bothersome.”

“You feel heat and cold?” You ask, already preparing an experiment in your head to check.

“I think so.”

“One way to find out.” You go through the cabinets until you find a large stainless steel bowl, then fill it to the brim with ice, and place it in front of him. “Stick your hand inside and leave it there for as long as you can.”

He looks at the ice like it’s something entirely unfamiliar and new, looking over at you like you might magically have the answer to a question he didn’t ask. Then, carefully, slowly, he slides his hand in the ice, frowning as he tries to verbalize what he feels. “What is this?”

“Ice.” When his expression remains blank, so you try to clarify. “When water gets cold, it freezes.”

His eyes widen, his mouth opening in a soft o. “This is water?”

“Frozen water, yeah,” you try to get back on topic, even though you find it odd that he knows what water is, but not ice. “Do you feel anything?”

“Cold,” he says, pulling his hand out. “It feels cold.”

You reach over and grab his hand in your own, running your thumb over his palm, finding the stone there as cold as one would expect to be after submerged in a pile of ice. “But you can feel it? Does it hurt?”

“It feels,” he thinks, brow furrowed, eyes decidedly glued on where your fingers touch, “pinching, but also not. As though I’m being poked by needles.”

That sounds cold to you, remembering the way your skin prickles when met with chilly air. So he can feel temperature changes, but can’t be deterred by one of your mean hooks, which you suppose is an interesting discovery. You might posit that it also doesn’t make the slightest lick of sense, but then again, a slab of lovingly carved stone is walking and talking, so you guess you can’t really be the judge of what is weird and what isn’t at the moment.

He slyly places his other hand over yours, wholly focused on tracing the path of your fingers while you… kind of just let it happen. If it was anyone else, you might have yanked your hand out of their grip, but you just sort of sit there and allow him to observe the curves and scars of your hand. While he does so, he’s quiet, not so much as whispering a single word that would cause you to leave, and is instead seems satisfied with the silence that settles over the kitchen. You can’t say that you’re uncomfortable with the way he touches you, his gestures so very gentle even though he’s a fucking rock.

“You’re an artist,” he says finally, his voice soft and sweet.

He’s only seen you working the brunt of the job, not the finer details that you pride yourself with. “How do you know?”

“The hands never lie.”

“And how would you know that?” You ask, a tad bit teasingly.

His eyes grow distant, feverish, as though he’s desperately trying to grasp something that’s just out of his reach. “I- I don’t rem-”

Someone’s at the kitchen’s back door, as instructed, knocking loudly and announcing that they’re the pizza guy. You’re very familiar with all the delivery people by now, and so you recognize the carrot-like hair of one of the pizza place’s employees, though you can’t recall his name. There’s cash in your back pocket, you always try to tip generously and under the table, and after exchanging a couple of words of pleasantries, you shut the door and go back to the table, pizza in hand. By this point, you’re practically frothing at the mouth for food, so statue be damned, you tear into the pizza like an animal once you’re sitting down.

Galateos watches with interest, observing the way you’re able to pull at the crust and place the triangular-shaped piece on a napkin that you decided to use as a plate because… you don’t have the energy to do dishes. As you eat, and subsequently feel a tad bit tired, you realize that there is going to be an issue with the fact that, problem one; you don’t know if you should leave him alone if he doesn’t sleep and problem two; there’s literally only one room that’s fully furnished and can house a person. You have been staying there, on your own, since going to some other hotel at night seems unnecessary, because this place is a hotel. Silently, you try to weigh the pros and cons of sharing a bed with him, and the only thing you seem to come back to is that you'd be able to keep an eye on him throughout the night.

He takes a couple of bites of the pizza, though scrunches up his nose with each one, seemingly unable to gather much of an appetite. Though he actually swallows the food, instead of spitting it right out like you might have expected, so that’s something, you guess. After you clean up, you sit with another mug of steaming hot tea, trying to relax yourself enough for sleep. He has a cup, too, though he stares at the liquid, and doesn’t really seem interested in drinking it.

You try to browse through the photos of the pamphlet again, trying to find something that might help you figure out just what the actual, literal fuck is going on. There isn’t really anything that might be considered out of the ordinary, there’s a transcript of the writing found at the base of the statue, back when he was standing still on the pedestal.

Μόνο ένας που μπορεί να αγαπήσει θα δώσει πνοή ζωής σε αυτό το σπλάχνο της γης

Όταν τα άστρα θα έχουν κινηθεί από τις θέσεις τους

Τότε ο γιος της Γεας θα αφυπνιστεί

Να γεννηθεί στην εποχή του μετάλλου και του κεραυνού

Όταν ο γλύπτης θα κείτεται νεκρός για τρείς χιλιάδες εύπρωκτα, εύπρωκτα χρόνια

There isn’t a translation available, which strikes you as odd. Maybe it hasn’t been translated yet? The pamphlet is a draft, after all. Maybe Marge has someone working on it right at this very moment and just hasn’t had the time to fully go over it yet. But… you look back up to the statue, who is bobbing his teabag up and down, watching the color of the water change. “Do you read Greek?”

“I don’t-”

“Just take a look,” you interrupt, holding your phone out in front of his face.

His eyes squint, pouring over the words on your phone, and it looks like he might actually be understanding what it says. That is, until, he sits back and offers you a shrug, mouth twitching. “I can’t.”

You let out a frustrated breath, but whatever. You knew it was a long shot, anyway. “Guess I’ll just have to wait until the official translator does their thing.”

Author’s Note:

A very special thanks to the wonderful @two-plus-two-is-four, my source for a lovely Greek translation of the inscription. I appreciate it so very much.

#exophilia #living statue #statue/reader #monster/reader #living statue x reader

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heroesofhyrule · 5 years

Note

Okay since seeing the trailer for the new Zelda game, I’ve been really wanting to read some more really good BOTW fanfic. Do you have any suggestions where they have some length to them? Also fics where link and Zelda are raising a family??

Truth be told, I haven’t read many BotW fics, if any, but I’ll compile some here after some searching! There are quite a few here that seem interesting to me or had plenty of kudos.

Please check all of the tags and heed the warnings before starting a fic!

Super long fics (wc: 200k+)

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

T | Novelization | Slow Burn | wc: 473k | Complete

“But courage need not be remembered… for it is never forgotten.”Though struggling with both the loss of memory and the incredible weight of past failure, Link must find a way to recover what has been lost and bring hope back to the land of Hyrule.An epic fantasy-style novelization of Breath of the Wild.Complete, with afterword and deleted scenes!

Champions and Beasts

Hyrule is a strange place, is it not? It has no history, only legends. It has no true heroes, only colossi who have wielded its fate in their hands. The Champions, and the Beasts; the wise, the strong, and the brave. And yet, we are always either recovering from war or preparing for it. How much longer can we endure, I wonder? How much longer can we step through this dance?

In a world this vast, being a hero isn’t always easy.

Champions and Beasts is a Breath of the Wild series that takes a darker and more political look at the world of Hyrule, both before and after the Calamity. Legends are long past, history is mostly lost, the wilds are dangerous but perhaps not as dangerous as the ambitions of its inhabitants; and with Calamity either just over the horizon or still a lingering nightmare, the Hyruleans must fight to attain peace.

This work is centered around Link and Zelda, and their evolving relationship both before and after the Calamity.

Currently there are only two Parts planned (From the Ground Up and The Ballad’s Beginning) but I am considering a third installment!

One Last Year

T | Post-canon | wc: 215k | Complete

Zelda vows to help Link remember the events that lead them to their hard-won victory. In doing so, they must delve together into a shared past and seek to untangle their feelings, their grief and their youthful frustrations to find the things they could control… and the things they couldn’t.

“I don’t know how to remember. Time passes, but nothing comes to my mind… Except you. You’re the key,” Link said, softly. “You have to be.”

A Breath of the Wild fic about Link, Zelda, and the memories that bind them.

Ironic Technology

Ironic Technology is a series where Link loses an arm after a tricky situation with two Guardians, luckily, he is able to receive a prosthesis made of Ancient Technology from his Sheikah allies. He continues on to complete all of the Shrines, meeting his friends from the four nations along the way, before he’s finally ready to take on Ganon with his tech upgrade. Moves into slice of life events with Link and Zelda living together working through their issues with each others support. Very little angst, mostly positive fluff and humour with Zelink throughout.

(A/N Originally I wasn’t going to have DLC2 content but it was a good ancient tech expansion, so expect that in ‘Trial and Error’ which will be rated ’M’ folks!)

The Destiny Collection

A collection for the little BotW universe I’ve created.

Not all stories directly follow one another! At least one spin-off is to be expected.

Long Fics (wc: 100k-200k)

Adrift in Time and Skyward Bound

E | Explicit language and sexual content | wc: 132k | Last updated 11/10/18

Link is her appointed knight. He will do anything and everything to protect her. Always. All ways. BotW. ZeLink. Loosely based on the original storyline.

Love in a Time of Calamity

Zelda awakens her powers in time to defeat Ganon, but there are still major losses. With Central Hyrule in pieces, two champions dead, a king out of commission, and half a metropolitan city turned refugees, Zelda and Link struggle to come to grips with the aftermath of the Calamity. Though neither are prepared, they must nonetheless learn to navigate a turbulent political landscape while a snooping journalist, an overzealous artist, and a power-hungry nobleman’s machinations turn their already topsy-turvy world on its head. Though the Calamity has been defeated, recovery proves a battle all its own; and that’s not even considering the battle raging in both their hearts. BoTW ZeLink AU.

Trouble the Water

Rating varies | Series | Pre/During/Post-canon | wc: 156k | complete

Excerpt from the first entry:

An expansion of canon: a look at why the memories might have happened where and when they occurred (with one slight change in order) and an attempt to fill-in the events and conversations alluded to by diary entries and conversations in-game.“You were a comfort to her,” in particular, needed to be expanded upon, I thought.Begins shortly before the first journal entry in Zelda’s diary, and continues to the immediate aftermath of the last memory.First person: Zelda’s perspective

Still a bit long fics (wc: 50k-100k)

I’ll Walk With You

T | Post-canon | wc: 94k | Complete

‘The battle is over, the Calamity has ended, and everything you knew and loved is gone for good. And yeah, you can’t ever get it back, but… maybe we don’t have to. The path in front of us may be long and uncertain, but it leads to something new, and… Zelda, no matter how hard it gets, I’ll be right here. And I’ll walk with you.’

A collection of moments involving our favorite Hero and Princess as they struggle to adapt. Post-BotW.

It All Must Start With Us

M | Post-canon | Sexual tension/Implied sexual content | wc: 76k | last updated 09/06/19

Set immediately after BotW, this story explores Link and Zelda’s journey together to restore Hyrule. Along the way, a mysterious voice give them the task of reliving memories of a century before: some painful, but all necessary before they can fully move into the next step of their lives.

Since the DLC did not give us a post-Calamity world with Link and Zelda, I’m writing one for myself and anyone else wanting to know what might have happened after! ♪ UPDATES ON SUNDAYS!! ♪

The Golden Age

T | Slow burn | Post-canon | wc: 66k | Last updated 03/05/19

After a century of undisturbed silence, a forgotten princess emerges from the famous ruins of Hyrule Castle. Princess Zelda has returned, and an even greater task than containing Calamity Ganon arises before her; balancing a complex love life while rising her kingdom up from the ashes and restoring it to glory in an age of peace and prosperity.

Post Botw.

A Hundred Years in the Making

M | Pre-canon | Slow burn | wc: 65k | Last updated 05/20/19

The story before the story began. A hundred and one years before, to be exact.

star fragments

G | Post-canon | wc: 61k | Last updated 01/21/18

Being a princess is a life of sacrifice. After beginning their new journey to find their places and rediscover Hyrule after Calamity Ganon, Zelda begins to realize she’s missed out on several experiences her land has to offer. Fortunately for her, Link knows everything.

Rise

T | Canon compliant | Sexual tension | wc: 58k | Last updated 01/10/19

The chosen hero appears. The princess deals with it.

One way it all could have happened.

A Hylian Romance

T | Court poet | wc: 55k | Complete

As are many, I was intrigued by the Sheikah court poet and what his perspective on Link and Zelda’s relationship might be.

Fade to Black

E | Series | Pre-canon | wc: 55k | Complete

A collection of smutty “what could have happened after the memory faded” ficlets each tagged to a different BoTW memory. Every story contains varying degrees of canon alteration and canon divergence, but are for the most part in line with the BoTW universe as we know it.

General disclaimer:I do not advocate for underage drinking, unprotected or unsafe sex, or generally poor decision making. Be smart and safe in real life, y'all!

Okay fics (wc: 20k-50k)

Zelda’s Log

T | Post-canon | Domestic fluff | wc: 43k | Last updated 03/24/19

After defeating the Calamity, Zelda and Link embark on a journey: she wants to get acquainted with the new Hyrule, and find her place again in the world.

The World That We Lost

T | Post-canon | wc: 41k | Complete

After defeating Ganon, princess Zelda goes back to Hyrule, resolved to rebuild her kingdom and make it even greater than it was one hundred years ago. While she feels confident enough to face any challenge and confront any foe that stays on her way, a reality breaks her heart: Link remembers her, but not quite, and his new life has made changes in his personality that even the total recovery of his memories may not be able to revert.

Unconventional

In the wake of the victory over Calamity Ganon, Link and Zelda need time to heal and adjust. Unfortunately, with rising pressure for Zelda to rise into the role of Queen of Hyrule, they aren’t given much time. Couple that pressure with confusing feelings for the Champion of Hyrule, well, her life has never been simple.

A New Normal

M | Post-canon | Memory loss | wc: 30k | Complete

About two years after sealing away Calamity Ganon, Zelda comes down with the same mysterious illness that took her mother away. Purah and the other Sheikah work on revamping the Shrine of Resurrection, and manage to heal her in two years; but she is plagued by the same memory loss that Link went through. The two struggle in their relationship and responsibilities as they try to recover her memory and thrive in Hyrule as they know it.

What wouldn’t I do?

T | Pre-canon | Slow burn | wc: 30k | Last updated 03/10/19

Link is appointed Hylian Champion for saving princess Zelda’s life. She doesn’t seem very fond of him though. Despite his struggle to cope with carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, Link can’t help but wonder if he really is ready to give his life in order to save someone who doesn’t trust him.

Link’s Journal

T | Canon compliant | wc: 30k | Complete

Day 1

I’ve had a bit of a rough day. I don’t remember who I am, a girl keeps talking in my head, I’m supposed to slay Calamity Ganon, a blue bokoblin nearly beat me to death with a stick, and the old man still won’t give me his paraglider.

But, well, I’m still here, breathing and thinking and eating baked apples, so it could be worse. The old man (who is annoyingly enigmatic – I don’t know who I am, the least you could do is tell me who you are) showed me how to write in the Sheikah Slate. I want to keep a record of who I am, right now, because, well, I can’t remember who I was before. If I lose my memory again, this time I will be ready.

[What’s Happening: The author journaled her BotW play through. Every in-game night “Link” stops to write an entry in his journal.]

Observation Methods in Data Collection

I read somewhere that it was obvious that Zelda was falling for Link because she treated him like a science experiment, which allowed her to talk and think about him without really acknowledging that she had feelings for him. I loved this interpretation SO MUCH! So, here is my attempt at filling in some of those details.

On Propriety and Unconventional Avenues of Communication

T | Post- canon| wc: 21k | Complete

(Post BOTW.) In which Link develops a very curious habit and Zelda is confused.

Short fics / oneshots ( - 20k)

Forgotten Knight

M | Post-canon | Sexual Tension | wc: 15k | Complete

Zelda and Link have defeated the Calamity but Link did not regain his memory. They return to Hateno Village to heal and recover, and to not only get to know each other again, but to learn how to love each other again as well.

Risk of Burn

E | Post-canon | Explicit sexual content | wc: 15k | Complete

Three weeks after the fall of the Calamity, Zelda changes her mind.

The Joys of Photography

G | Post-canon | wc: 14k | Complete

The Sheikah Slate has the remarkable ability to capture and archive true to life images. Such a remarkable piece of ancient technology is not something that should be taken for granted. But that doesn’t mean that the Princess of Hyrule and her appointed Knight have to be so serious about every image they capture. The story of five pictures taken on the Sheikah slate.

Son of The Wild

T | Post-canon | Family fluff | wc: 13k | 05/16/19

Link and Zelda’s son reflects on his unusual upbringing.

practical anatomy

E | Post-canon | Explicit sexual content | wc: 12k | Complete

Is the Goddess still testing him? Has he not suffered enough in this lifetime? Was killing the Calamity not enough—now he has to explain morning wood to the Princess of Hyrule?

(in which Zelda discovers an unsavoury image on the Sheikah Slate and Link must face the consequences)

Soldier’s Log

T | Pre/post-canon | wc: 11k | Complete

The events leading up to the return of Calamity Ganon as well as life after his defeat as recorded in the pages of a journal belonging to a knight who would be king.

By the fire

T | Ficlet collection | wc: 11k | Complete

A collection of Zelink ficlets in the BOTW universe. Some ideas were developed for my main fic, “The World That We Lost”, but had to be scrapped because they didn’t fit anymore. Others are explorations of different canon formulas and timelines that said fic doesn’t touch, and some more could come from prompts (send me one, if you want!)

On the Life of Queen and Consort

Few know me. I was the Queen’s left hand and the Consort’s right. I was their first, best and last friend. But above all, I was their advisor, and now that my tenure has ended, it is time to write their story.

After 100 years apart, Link and Zelda finally unite to rebuild their Kingdom. Their reign together is long, with triumphs and heartbreaks as they navigate Royal life, raising children, conquering fears and growing old in a Kingdom beset by peace. Now at its end, their Chief Advisor Larella sits down to write the history of their reign, having beared witness to much of their lives.

Part of Zelink Week 2017 - this is a ten part series that looks into the partnership and later life of Link and Zelda as Queen and Consort of Hyrule.

#link-avalon #zelink #botw zelink #fanfiction

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badwolfwrites-sometimes · 4 years

Text

Drawn Together: Chapter 10

Last chapter of the Silence in Venice bits.

'"Mother, you can't do that!"

"Yes! I can! I'm the queen in this castle! You have to obey me!"

"Why do you hate her so much?! She never did anything to you! You can't lock her up like that! Let her go, I promise we-"

"Oh, don't give me those promises! We both know you're not going to keep them! You're mad for her! She stays locked!"

"No!"

"That's the end of it, Otto! I'm busy. And you'll never see your servant girlfriend ever again, so I suggest you start working out a royal replacement for her."

"She is royal! Let her out! I'm not leaving until you do!"

The Queen turned around, slapping Otto across his face. He shook a bit, but stood his ground, eyes full of hate and determination.

"If you don't find yourself a suitable wife, I'm going to find her for you. And if you mention that servant girl, I'll have her head served to stray dogs and cats." The Queen turned back around and slammed her door into Otto's face.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to run away. He wanted to be anywhere but here. Why couldn't she understand? Why does it matter if Alice's royal or not? Why did she need to be locked away just for kissing him?

Otto leaned close to the door and with his voice broken from crying, the tears choking him, he said: "I wish I wasn't born as your son." And he stormed off to find the only person who could comfort him now, if she even wanted to see him now.

He found her sitting at the staff table, hands covering her face, her aged but beautiful face. Otto knew this was never a good thing. Elizabeta always smiled. No matter how grave the situation.

"Betty..." he called for her quietly.

She nodded, but gave him no further sign of communication. He walked up to her, hugging her and sobbing into her shoulder.

"They took Alice. Betty, they took everything from us." He sobbed. Elizabeta grabbed his hand that was wrapped around her body and held it firmly. Otto continued: "What are we going to do now?"

Like she had been waiting for the moment, Elizabeta lifted her head and held it as far up as her body would allow it now. She looked at Otto, her eyes with an expression Otto has never seen in them before. If he had to describe them, they looked like they were ready for murder if needed. For unusual reasons, they sparked hope in Otto.

"We are going to find her." She said. "We are going to find her if it costs me my entire life."

Otto nodded, feeling his face go numb. He was smiling. How could he not? How could he not smile when Elizabeta just gave him more hope than he could have asked for?

They devised a plan. They would look for Alice when everyone in the castle is asleep. If Alice is calling for them, this would make the search easier. And no one would be questioning their snooping around the castle.

"All is clear." Otto said, finishing his inspection of the castle to see if everyone is asleep.

"Good. Let's move." Elizabeta said, carefully listening if any crying could be heard. Nothing. They would have to do this the hard way, by searching every room in the castle.

"Maybe we should check the prison cells first. It is most likely where she might be." Otto suggested.

"Possibly. But your mother isn't stupid. She knows that's where we will look first. There is also a possibility she set up a trap for us." Elizabeta commented.

"We have to try regardless." Otto said determindedly.

"Try what?" A deep voice asked from behind them. Elizabeta and Otto both jumped, afraid their mission was to be stopped before it even started. They both turned around to find Rod staring at them. "You are trying to find your girlfriend, aren't you?" He asked.

Otto couldn't deny it. There was something menancing in Rod's eyes, like he would ruin their mission if he didn't answer honestly. "Yes. And it's for your own sake that I ask you to keep your mouth shut." He said.

Rod smirked, he had expected an answer like this. "You won't find her in prison cells. I know where she is. If you want to see her, I suggest you tone down your attitude a little."

Otto's eyes widened. Rod knew where Alice was? He hated Alice. Why in the God's name does he know where she is? "My apologies. Show me the way. Please." He said, trying to mean it from the bottom of his heart. He longed for her desperately.

"Good. But first, I have a favor to ask from both of you." Rod said.

Otto rolled his eyes. Of course there was a catch. Elizabeta held his arm firmly. Last thing she wanted was for Otto to snap.

Rod continued. "I want the throne after your father dies." Otto nodded without thinking about it much. "And I want your hand in marriage." Rod looked at Elizabeta who froze.

It took a bit of nudging from Otto to get Elizabeta in a state where she could answer properly and even then she stuttered. "My...hand?" She asked.

"Yes. You are not married as of yet and for me becoming the next king, I need a queen, do I not?" Rod paused, his ears slowly setting on fire. It must run in the family, talking to girls stresses them out. "Besides, you are a much better fit for a queen than any other princess I know. I do not think it should be a problem if I marry you."

Elizabeta blinked, then smiled at how red Rod has become. "Will you take Prince Otto to Alice if I accept?" She asked, nodding towards Otto who became a lot more impatient now.

"For you, I will do so much more." Rod said, taking Elizabeta's hands in his own. Elizabeta nodded before passing Otto to Rod.

"We really need to find her. Please, show us the way and I will be your bride. Even if I'm not ready for it. Nor for ruling an Empire." She said.

Rod led them the way. To the Queen's room. He opened the door without any problem. "I slipped some sleeping potion into her tea. I was expecting from you to look for her. She's in the largest closet." Otto wasted no time, running towards the closet as soon as he said that. Rod pulled out a paper to have ready.

Otto opened the closet doors to find his beloved all beaten up and sleeping as peacefully as she could. He didn't have a heart to wake her up so he carried her out. Elizabeta came to his aid, closing the closet doors so the Queen doesn't notice. Rod followed the three of them out as Otto carried Alice somewhere she would be safer. For now.

"What has she done to you, my love?" He said, petting her long red hair. Elizabeta hugged him from behind, glad that they were both now safe.

Rod waited for them to calm down before presenting Otto the piece of paper from before. "It's a form for you to sign. That you are giving the throne to me." Otto signed it without hesitation. "You do realize that you cannot stay here after you have signed this?" Rod asked.

"I wasn't planning to." Otto said, braiding Alice's hair. "It's not safe for her to stay here. I already bought her old house for us. We are going to live in Venice from now on."

"Very well. I wish you the best. Wake her up, you need to leave tonight." Rod said, walking towards the door with Elizabeta.

"Thank you, Rod. For showing me the way to her." Otto said. Rod smiled in response. "Betty." Otto called for her. "You were better than any mother to both of us. If I don't see you ever again, I hope you are happy. You will make a great queen someday." He smiled, wiping his tears away.

Elizabeta ran towards him, embracing him for quite possibly the last time and kissing his temple. "Take care. Both of you. I'll make sure my children know about both of you and your beautiful love. Promise me, Otto, that you will love her freely for all eternity."

"And beyond." Otto responded, hugging the life out Elizabeta.

Once Elizabeta and Rod were both gone, Otto woke up Alice. "My love, wake up. We must leave." He shook her slightly, but stopped once he saw the tears in her eyes.

"Please let me go." Alice begged in her sleep, breaking Otto's heart.

"Dearest, it's me. Your prince. We have to go." He whispered softly into her ears and slowly she opened her eyes.

The first thing she did was wrap her arms around Otto, holding on to him for dear life. She hadn't been locked up for long, but it felt like eternity to her. An eternity of torture. "My Prince! My beautiful Otto! I'm so glad to see you." She squeeled.

Otto smiled at her reaction. Oh, how he loved her. "I am more than glad to see you as well, darling." He kissed her cheek, right below the nasty scar his mother probably made. "But we have to leave immediately. Pack only what's important for the journey. We are going to Venice."

"Romano can drive." Alice interrupted the second she heard her home being mentioned. "Please tell me we can take him too."

Otto hesitated. Romano hated him after all. "Of course. Betty and Rod are preparing some food for us. I will go tell your brother that we have to leave, you can do the packing for both of us." Alice nodded. Otto placed a soft kiss on her lips before running out to find Romano.

When they were all packed up, the Sun was almost rising. They said their goodbyes quickly, although they wished this didn't have to happen. Alice could barely part away from Elizabeta and even Rod gave her a wholehearted hug, making her promise to watch over the former prince. Otto had told her and Romano all about how he lost his status during the carriage ride. His story even led to Romano respecting him more. Thus, they were on their way. A way for the new home, new life.

~2 years later~

Life had been treating them quite well since they left. All three of them had been working, earning money to make by.

Romano took after their father's job as a boatmaker. It was a tough job and many had quit for a better opportunity as soon as they were given the chance. Romano stayed, he found the job of making boats eased his mind. He had been having more and more trouble controlling his temper after everything that has happened.

Otto found a hidden passion for making things out of metal. Usually it was swords for the noblemen or guns, but he discovered that, above all that, he loved making rings and small metal jewelry. Alice enjoyed them as well.

Life was possibly the hardest on Alice. She worked around the house a lot, doing laundry, dishes, making lunch for her boys and, on top of all that, volunteering at the orphanage where she took care of kids. She enjoyed that part of her life, but having any interaction with ladies her age made her stomach sick.

"You live with two men and you are still not married?! Unbelievable!"

"You are 18 and you don't have children?! You must be a witch!"

"When I was your age, all I knew was to have children and obey my husband and you are not even married." Those and various variations were always sent her way, all pointing out little things about her, from her hair to her age to her relationship status.

Otto had told her not to pay attention their words, but the truth was he was scared for her as well. It has been 5 days since she last went out. He told her to stay inside. He told her he and Romano will protect her.

There was a knock on their door and something was slid through. Alice was in the kitchen at the moment and the boys were getting ready for work. She walked towards the door, noticing two letters stuck under them. She recognized the seal on one of them. The seal of The Holy Roman Empire.

"Love, something came for you." She called for Otto and opened up the other letter. There was quite a sum of money inside it. Even more than usual.

Otto walked down the stairs to meet his beloved, kissing her cheek before spinning her around into a proper kiss. Ever since they have moved away, this was their morning kiss. And Alice couldn't have been happier than when he did that. It was his way of telling her that he loved her, that all he was ever going to be was her's.

He opened the letter to find that it was from Rod. His eyes quickly scanned the letter, noting it's formality which was anything but Rod's style. That could only mean...

If the ground was shaking madly, Otto wouldn't have heard it in that moment. Dropping the letter, he collapsed on the floor. Alice was by his side instantly. "What is it, Love?" She asked.

He couldn't respond, his bright blue eyes, which were once so lively, now dark and blank. He pointed at the letter, a motion to let Alice know she could read it.

Alice picked up the letter, sitting in front of Otto. She read it carefully, sucking up every word it delivered. When she reached a certain part, her eyes began watering. "A war..." She whispered.

Otto nodded. It was all he could do. Alice just stared at him, picturing him in a war uniform covered with his own blood and lying dead somewhere with rats nimbling at his flesh. A picture so disgusting, she could do nothing but choke down her sobs. Otto couldn't even find the strength to comfort her.

"I promised Rod that I would only return home in case a war breaks out. I didn't even think it through. I didn't know my promise would come true." He finally said, his head low.

Alice pulled him into a tight hug, begging him not to leave. It was all in vain. Otto had to go. He had no other choice. He could do something before he left though.

Holding her close, he asked: "Alice, do you want to marry me?" A question he longed to get out of his system for so, so long.

Alice nodded her head a bit too strongly, tears all but jumping from her face. If this moment wasn't as tragic as it was, those would have probably been tears of happiness. "Of course I do." She answered.

"Then let us do it!" Otto pulled away to look at Alice. She was making such an ugly face, but it didn't bother Otto. This was his Alice's face. To him, no face of her's is ever ugly. "Let us get married tomorrow! On the Rialto Bridge!"

Alice laughed. Of course it would be on the Rialto Bridge. Otto had fallen in love with it ever since they had their first kiss there. "Yes... Let us get married, My Prince." She whispered. It didn't ease the pain, it wouldn't ease her suffering, but it was a promise. A promise that one day when the war is over, she would see him again.

Alice found an old white dress in her parents' closet. Her mother's wedding dress. It was all dusty just like the rest of the room. Neither her nor Romano ever entered their room, not even to clean it. It was too full of pain for both, but Alice had to make through it. For her own sake. Although she would rather be anywhere but there, she swallowed it up and browsed through her mother's old stuff, anything she could find for her wedding tomorrow.

"I don't think I will have much time to wash the wedding dress. Will it bother you?" Alice asked Otto, who had been searching alongside her.

"Probably not. It didn't bother me much when you were a maid." Otto commented, earning a giggle from Alice before she went quiet again.

"Do you think..." she started. "Do you think, if you were still a prince, you wouldn't have to go to the war?"

Otto closed the closet, letting out a small sarcastic hum to himself. "Knowing my mother, I would have been sent to be the first in line on the battlefield. And I don't mean that I would lead them, I would probably be sent there to die." He remarked, keeping his sarcastic tone.

Alice's face fell. She knew Otto was joking, yet she couldn't help but wonder. The image from before was still rooted deep inside her mind.

Otto noticed her reaction, walking up to her with a smile on his face. "If that was the case, I would have died, but it is not now. Now I have to come home to you. If anyone is going to save me out there, it is always going to be you." He placed a soft kiss on her lips, brushing her rose colored cheeks with his thumb. If he could, he would never pull away from those sweet moments they have. They wouldn't last for much longer.

They were getting married at the sunset. Otto had begged the local priest to let their ceremony be held on the Rialto Bridge to which the same priest reluctantly agreed after hearing of Otto's fate. The same priest and Otto, as well as a few other people watching, stood at the highest point of the bridge, waiting for Alice.

Before the sun started setting, Alice showed up, escorted by Romano wearing a rag around his face. The dust from Alice's dress caused quite a few sneezing fits from Romano. Even with how rushed she looked, Otto had to point out that she looked rather marvelous.

The ceremony was kept fairly short. The priest had blessed Otto for his journey and to live through the war, blessed Alice to keep her head and heart strong through these painful times and, finally, blessed Romano for the tenth time he sneezed.

But the most important part happened at the perfect moment. The very same moment it happened the first time. At the time when they shared their first kiss, they sealed their wedding deal. Otto had whispered a small 'I love you' to Alice right before she jumped at him, dust from her dress flying around, smashing her lips against Otto's. Otto smiled into the kiss, giving a soft hum of content. The crowd around them cheered, but the two didn't seem to hear.

They had no time to hold a party, Otto had to leave very early in the morning, so when they got home and got rid of their clothes, they just laid in their shared bed. It was their first night together as a married couple and they decided to waste it in cuddling. Alice spent quite an amount of time crying for Otto and he could only offer her kisses and hugs as a comfort. He would do anything to not go out there tomorrow morning.

"Don't say goodbye to me tomorrow." He whispered into Alice's ear. "I don't want that word between us as I fight that war."

Alice nodded, she would have preferred not to say it as well. "Will you hug Betty for me if you see her?" She asked.

"Of course, My Love." Otto planted yet another kiss on Alice's lips. "Now, let us go to sleep. Remember, we-"

"-can always meet in the land of dreams." She interrupted. "You have said it so many times tonight."

He smiled. "Because it is true. And I will think of you day and night until I can properly see you again. I will think of you when the sun rises and the smell of flour stuck in your hair as you wake me up."

Alice giggled. "I will think of you when the sun is at its highest and the way you talk about your day as we eat lunch at the table." He continued.

"I will think of you when as the sun goes down and of our first kiss on the Rialto Bridge. I will think of you when the stars are out and of us close together as we watch the stars. And of your sad face when you realize you missed a falling star. I will think of the way you love me. And how much I love you too." Alice smiled a sad smile once Otto finished, knowing that she won't be hearing these words being said from these lips for a very long time.

"I will always love you. Remember that wherever you are. I will be waiting here for you. I will wait no matter how long this war lasts. And I will welcome you home with hugs and kisses and fresh bread and sweets." She said, brushing her fingers down Otto's chest for one last time.

"I know you will. I already cannot wait to eat them all again." He smiled.

"Should I make you some for the trip?"

"No. Stay with me here for as long as we can. I want to spend every last moment here with you."

Otto kissed her for one last time before she started drifting away into the dreamworld. The last thing she heard before she was gone to the world was a soft 'Goodnight.' Not long after her, Otto had fallen asleep as well. One last peace between them.

The next morning came way faster than both had wanted it. Alice couldn't bear this. One minute she had everything she could have asked for and the next one, her everything is being taken away. Otto felt the same, not wishing to even get up from their bed. He had to though, the carriage was already waiting outside for him and the driver was getting super pissed off. He was like Romano on a bad day.

Otto finally got the courage to dress amd come down with Alice's help. Together they loaded Otto's stuff into the carriage. It wasn't a very large bag, just some extra clothing he might need. He preferred to leave more stuff behind for Alice. He knew she wouldn't forget him, but if she ever missed him, she could always look through his belongings.

The newlyweds exchanged one last hug, neither saying a word, dreading the heaviness of the air around them. Finally, as Otto was about to board the carriage, Alice pulled him back for a kiss. It was the most painful kiss Otto had ever received.

He pulled away first, whispering: "I love you, Alice."

She wiped away her tears. "I love you too, Otto."

And off he was, to the dreaded war. It was the early summer of 1618, a perfect time for a new life. And new life was what Alice would get starting now.'

Feliciano closed the book. A sudden feeling of emptiness washing over him. What will he do now? What was his life like before reading this book? How strange it was, books have the power to change lives and this one certainly changed his.

#GerIta #Germany x Italy #APH Germany #hetalia GerIta #hws germany #aph gerita #APH #APH Hungary #APH Holy Roman Empire #APH Italy #hws #hws hungary #hws italy #hws gerita #drawn together story #hetalia #hetalia axis powers #hetalia world stars

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averagesmw · 5 years

Text

Penny Haywood x MC- Doodles and scribbles

Game: Harry Potter Hogwarts Mystery

____________________

Doodles and scribbles

It was a nice day in Hogwarts, felt like any other, with not many troubles to go around, well, there was that rumour about magical creatures running around in castle grounds, but I haven't seen any

Currently, I was on my way to the potions classroom to get to the lesson of the day, when just around the corner, I bumped into someone in particular

It was Y/N L/N, the charming student I've dubbed "the star of Hogwarts", for more reasons than the obvious ones

But there was something wrong about their appearance, their clothes were slightly tattered, messed with, and they had cuts on their hands and even one on their left cheek

"Merlin's beard, Y/N! What happened to you?"

They didn't even stop to look at me, instead, they gave me an answer while running away, in a hurry to complete something, it would seem

"No time to explain, going to help Hagrid, talk to you later!"

... alright then

I would obviously have to investigate just what was going on, but later, I still had a class to attend, and my favourite, nonetheless

Just as I was about to take my leave, however, I spotted something in the ground, a small notebook, no, more like a journal. It had witnessed the progress of time, but it was well kept, for the most part. Curiosity got the better of me and I chose to pick it up

It was so intriguing, there was no name of who the owner might be, but upon inspecting the notes written here, I was able to recognize the author just fine

This was Y/N's journal, they must've dropped it when they ran away. Funny, I didn't even know they had one, but given everything that they have experienced here, it was logical they needed something to help them cope with bitterness or tragedy

I... guess I would have to keep it safe with me until I see them again, Y/N did seem to be in quite a hurry anyway

Without further due, I went ahead and took my class to continue with the day

At first, everything was alright, the potion we had to brew was quite easy for me, so easy that I had plenty of time to spare once I finished mine and got points for my house for that

...and now I found myself bored

Perhaps it was the routine or lack of any deadly threat lurking around, but I couldn't find myself enjoying this class as much as I usually did

And it was there that one of my demons manifested itself, the overwhelming sense of curiosity, not staying down no matter how hard I tried to drown its voice

It was aching to see what secrets lied within the pages of the journal I had just found. Normally I wouldn't care about a journal that much, just for the sake of gossip

But this was Y/N L/N, a person so vast that you might feel like you know them well enough to write a biography, only for yet another astonishing fact to pop up just a couple of seconds later

Of course, I wanted to know their opinion on so many things, and who knows? Maybe I'll find my answers there and--

No, no, what kind of friend would I be if I snooped through their personal notes?

It was a battle of wills going on in both my mind and heart, my eyes going back and forth between the journal pocketed in my robes and the class itself

I mean...Y/N has made it quite clear that they trust me with their life, literally sometimes. I don't think they'd mind if I take just a quick peek at it

...right?

Just when I was starting to express curiosity, I found myself already holding the journal, and even worse, opening it. Forgive me, Y/N

My eyes glued to its contents, the journal transported me to another time just seconds after starting to read it. The first page had the same date as the day we first stepped into Hogwarts itself! They must've bought it to write down their experiences in this school

Can't blame them for that, Hogwarts does promise an endless supply of adventures, both death-defying and normal ones

I sighed, finally putting my curiosity to rest as I began reading the first entry

September 1st, 1984

This is it, the day I finally get to study in Hogwarts! I can hardly keep my hand from shaking, the emotion is overwhelming!

The entire day was quite magical, auntie Jane took me to eat the most delicious breakfast I've had in months, dad even sent me a letter congratulating me for being enrolled

It would be much better if he had shown up to say it, but I understand his work keeps him from even leaving

But then again, I was not the only one excited for this, he and auntie bought me this journal to write all my adventures in that school

So I better write the best of the best in this!

This is the day I've waited years for, to visit the school where my parents studied, and get to make my own adventure

Just you wait, Jacob, I'm on my way!

...The entry concludes here

I...I honestly didn't know how I feel about this. On one hand, it was cute to see how excited Y/N was, the page contained so much raw emotion, almost like a child, and it was so cute

On the other hand, however, I can't help but feel terribly sorry their experience, seeing as it turned out much more sour than what they were expecting, especially under so many promises of happiness

It brings up the question, how does Y/N manage to maintain that hopeful, cheerful attitude after all of this? Maybe I could ask them...

"Class dismissed"

Professor Snape's unmistakable voice wrecked my train of thought, no way I would stay reading something as personal as this in this classroom. I was on Snape's good side, but I doubt he would trust me that much

I gathered my things and left for the library, a place actually intended for reading. I was so immersed in my own thoughts about this entry, that I barely even noticed the people around me

This was astounding, the first entry of this journal and I already learned something big!

But it does make sense, Y/N has never been one to bring up the family during a conversation, but this? This deals exactly with it, I can't stop now

Giving it no second thought, I made my way to the library and sat immediately to continue reading, opening the journal once again, and hopefully, with fewer interruptions other than Snape's ominous voice

The next entries where much shorter, but certainly numerous, mainly dealing with Y/n's experience with their respective house, their prefect helping them dealing with Merula and the consequent duel with her, that ended up being how we met

Hey, there's a small entry on me as well!

September 15th, 1984

Just after my duel with Merula, I was summoned to discuss what happened, but along the way, I was stopped by the most popular girl in school, Penny Haywood!

I have to say, her reputation does precede her, only five minutes of chatting with her and I already liked her. Who knows? Maybe I'll get a chance to talk to her after dealing with the vault that keeps cursing the school

...Well, we certainly got to talk again, and I even got to help Y/N break the curse of the ice plaguing Hogwarts. I have to admit it, I was a bit nervous when I first chose to approach them, but it's nice to see how well they took it!

The feeling of understanding Y/N like this was like being taught how to brew your first potion, a feeling so strong, or at least in my case, unforgettable

I mean, not even when we ate lunch together did I get them to talk so much about themselves

My, so much learning, so many different ways to see things, people and even the events from the perspective of the one student who got to deal with it first hand!

Out of the corner of my eyes, I spotted Rowan Khana, Y/N's best friend and local book lover, but also, a friend of mine. They brought along a huge book and sat next to me

"Hello, Penny! How are you today?"

Unlike with Snape, I was able to gather my thoughts quickly enough for it to look natural, and so I greeted Rowan with the usual "Haywood" charisma

"Hello Rowan, I'm fine, what is that you have there?" I asked using the book as an obvious distraction, but also, out of curiosity

"Oh, I'm studying a little earlier for our O.W.Ls, you can never be too prepared"

My friend stated proudly, but then I saw them stare at the little book in my hands. Oh no

"Is that?..."

I got nervous immediately after I saw how shocked Rowan was by this, meaning this journal must be as important to Y/N as I thought. However, in order to keep us both from being kicked out of the library, I tried my best to keep my voice down

"I-I can explain it, it fell from Y/N's pocket a-and I...well...-" Smooth, Penny, real smooth

Rowan made a gesture that caught me off guard even more, a smirk. They threw their hands up in surrender and kept a cool demeanor

"...I believe you will take care of it for Y/N, just don't abuse its contents, alright?"

By Merlin, for a moment I genuinely thought there was going to be trouble because of this, but clearly, Rowan knew me better than that

"Of course! Thank you, Rowan, I owe you one"

They just smiled back at me and took the book they needed, then they wrote something on a piece of paper and passed it to me before standing up and leaving. I looked at the note, found myself surprised by what it said

"You might want to check page 47, though"

This behavior from them told me Rowan knew so much more about either the journal or Y/N that I didn't, and maybe they wanted me to discover it for myself

...Who am I to decline a challenge, then?

There were plenty of other entries after that, mainly detailing Y/n's dealings with the cursed vault of ice, the way it was written could put many novelists to shame, although there were some things that were best kept in the dark

Y/N had always been a busy student, it worries me a bit just how little time do they have to themselves, just today I saw them run away as if they were in a hurry to help someone

Oh Y/N, I wish you would take care of yourself as much as you do for us...

As I kept reading, I decided to leave the library and fetch me a couple of sandwiches from the great hall, especially since it was getting late. I would most definitely look up the page Rowan suggested next

So far, my favourite entry of the journal had to be the Christmas one. Y/N didn't say much that day, but their happiness spoke volumes to me

However, what is written here, it somehow manages to topple that. In it, they remark how grateful they are for having us as friends, but most importantly, gives me details about why they were so sad in the first place

Apparently, Y/N's mum died just a couple years before his brother disappeared, and his father's work at the ministry keeps him far too busy to spend time with his own children

That leaves Y/N themselves with their aunt Jane, with whom they spent a vast majority of the time, and seems that she is actually nice, but had to stay over with some relatives in America, hence why Y/N staid at the castle with us

I'm just glad Y/N has someone else looking out for them outside Hogwarts

The journal's pages were so inviting, I sat alone to eat lunch for the first time ever, wishing to have only the book's company. I was going to follow Rowan's advice and head towards page 47 of the journal, didn't know they had numbers

But then, among its contents, I found something else, a mention to me in a lonely page, with much less ink in it than the others, yet structured so differently, it was a must-read

October 11th, 1987

I helped Talbot get back his necklace after a wholesome adventure, who knew he was so, well, alive. Among one of our stops was the library, where I learned that he likes to write poetry, but of course, denied me the right to read his work

Can't blame him for that

Instead, he actually convinced me into writing some poetry for myself, I got Rowan to help me study the structure and rhymes, I have nothing but respect for poets, now...

Anyway, I wanted to try and write something of my own, and I'm supposed to follow a feeling, perhaps think about something that inspires me, or someone for that regard so... I'm going to use this crush of mine as a muse

Here goes nothing...

-Haywood-

Her locks of gold

And a spirit so bold

I could stay a while

Just watching that smile

And it would never get old

Flawless in her potions

A girl of pure emotions

She calls me a star

But she's better by far

A reason for my heart's commotions

The...the entry concludes here, it seems that it is a work in progress but... I think just two stanzas were all it took to make me blush like a tomato, I could feel my face get warmer because of it. Y/N says It's not perfect, but I don't think I've ever read anything so wonderful before...

I've never had someone write something so beautiful for me either, but now ...I...I don't think I I would have it any other way

Oh, how I'd love to take this with me, perhaps I could write a copy, or...Did I just hear my stomach rumbling?

My, I came here to read and eat, but so far I had only done one of the two. Perhaps I could get myself a couple of sandwiches before resuming this, wouldn't want to stain the pages and give myself away

I stood up and walked to get some food, whilst helping my mind off from such a...beautiful piece of work. I mean, it said so much about how Y/N sees me and I, honestly, couldn't find myself more flattered by it

Heh, so this is how being speechless feels like

With food on my plate, I returned to the table I was using, but as soon as I did, I felt my heart sink down, my eyes go wide, and I almost dropped my food as well because as it turns out...

...the journal was gone

Who could be so vile to take advantage of my flustered state and steal something so valuable just like that?!

Focus, Penny, Rowan trusted you with Y/N's own journal without giving it a second thought, it's time to prove why

I approached one of my fellow Hufflepuffs, I tapped his shoulder to get his attention

"Yes, Penny?"

"Excuse me, did you happen to see someone take the journal that was over there?"

He looked at the place I pointed at, then started to recall recent events with a 'hmm' for a couple of seconds and finally, he looked at me with an answer

"I think I saw a pale Slytherin girl take it, she might be leaving, though"

I thanked him for his help and then turned my attention to the entrance of the great hall and saw one particular girl leaving it, I could recognize her from afar. Ismelda

No time wasted, I ran out of the great hall to catch up with her, and by the time I did, she was already halfway through the halls

"Ismelda, give it back!"

My voice made her stop to look at me, that mischievous smile only confirmed her as guilty

"What are you talking about?"

"This is really not the time for this"

My serious tone only fed her amusement

"Oh, my, I'm so scared"

Sigh...

"Look, if you want this precious diary, then you'll have to read it out loud in the gre--"

"Immobulous"

Ismelda didn't even finish her sentence before I cast the spell, there was absolutely no way I would do this to Y/N, and I sincerely wasn't in the mood to play games like that

So I walked up to her and took the journal from her hands, stored it and began to walk away

"The spell shouldn't last long, don't worry"

And with that, I left the scene

While that encounter was short-lived, it was still a mistake from my part, I believe that the best thing should be to deliver this to Rowan, in case they see Y/N before me

While I stored the journal in my robes, I felt a small piece of paper, I took it out and saw that it was the one Rowan gave me

And also the reminder that I hadn't checked that specific page

Perhaps I could check one last entry before I return the book...

To avoid any trouble, I headed to one of the corridors, one of the least frequented by students and teachers, perfect for some alone reading

I opened the journal carefully and without disturbing the pages, I located page 47 of it, but what I found was much different from what I was expecting

...well, I didn't even find anything

Strange, why would Rowan want me to check this in particular?

Wait, there was something in here, a date, but not just any date, but the date of the celestial ball!

How did Y/N manage to find time to write something? They spent most of the day helping me with the decorations!

Now that I think about it, I hope I wasn't too harsh on them

Returning to the page, there was a date here, and a blank page that Rowan wanted me to check out, but what if it wasn't empty?

What if, perhaps, it was hidden?

Taking out my wand, I pointed it at the page and calmly chanted

"Revelio"

Slowly, the contents of the page were becoming visible, but these were not words

No, it was a drawing

It detailed two people dancing with grace, joy, without a care in the world

One of them was wearing a dress made for twirling, and the other never looked so perfect

This was us

The traces were so delicate, yet so lively, nothing but pure happiness was emanating from this picture

Well, I did find another emotion in this drawing, it was love

Under the drawing, a brief note was written with the same passion

"Thank you for giving me the happiest night of my life"

Y/N's POV, the next day

I was on my way to the artifacts room to meet Penny, maybe she wanted to know what even happened to me during the entire day

Truth to be told, I was helping Hagrid and professor Kettleburn with some magical creatures that escaped into the castle

Needless to say, the Hippogriff didn't go down without a few scratches and cuts, but it came to trust me enough to give me a ride on its back

Was it worth it? I think so, yes

Madam Pomfrey said my arm should be good as new for tomorrow, so no major problems there

I opened the door for the artifact room and saw Penny alone, holding...my journal?

So there it was...

"How is that arm coming along?" She asked in that motherly tone of hers

"Should be good for tomorrow"

She smiled at this, but then her expression turned a bit nervous when she continued the conversation

"You... you dropped this yesterday, but I didn't have the chance to return it to you"

She handed it over to me, avoiding eye contact with me

"Did you read it?"

Penny's blue eyes became riddled with shame and remorse as a sigh left her lips

"I did, sorry..."

A hand placed on her shoulder made her look at me, surprised

"It's fine, I was going to let you see it anyway"

She was taken back by this, only gaining a smile from me. Her reactions were too cute sometimes

"Y-You were?"

I nodded while maintaining the smile

"Yes, I recall you being so curious about me, and I don't know if you noticed, but I don't do a good job at it, so I thought lending you the journal would do a better job"

She sighed in relief, a smile creeping it's way back to her face, then she saw my tired expression and gave me a look of sympathy

"We should talk later, for now, just get some rest, okay?"

"I'll do my best" I joked, making her giggle

"Thank you, Y/N, I mean it"

Her tone sounded more serious, but before I could answer, Penny leaned closer to me and gave me a peck on the cheek

Needless to say, now I was the shocked one, my face was surely as red as it could, not to mention warm

She pulled back and smiled at me, not saying a word before she left the room, leaving me alone

Instinctively, I put my hand on that same cheek, I just couldn't believe what just happened

N-Not that I didn't like it, but because perhaps, I liked it too much

And all because of this journal

I wonder, did she leave a note or something whilst reading it?

I opened the journal and started searching through the pages. So far everything was as it should, no signs of tampering

...until I got to that special page of mine

Not only was the drawing visible, but there was also a note below mine, written by someone with far more delicate penmanship than mine

The message read:

"No, thank you for making me the happiest witch in the world~"

#penny haywood x mc #penny haywood #penny haywood x jacob's sibling #hogwarts mystery #mc hogwarts mystery

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kpop-pick-me-up · 5 years

Text

| Taehyung x Ravenclaw! Reader (fluff) :00 can't | | Wait for the HMC au bby💜 |

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Taehyungxravenclaw! Reader pt. 1/?

A/N- You got it! Sorry it took so long I was adjusting to my new school schedule before I started writing again. And SAME! It's my motivation to keep improving, as I don't want to write/post a HMC au I wouldn't want to read. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to tag you or not,so just let me know for the next parts. Anyways, hope you enjoy sorry if it's absolute garbage :[ I'm going to go back and check it one more time tomorrow to look for any typos I missed, but until then please ignore them.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The halls were buzzing with excitement all over the castle. You couldn't walk 15 feet without hearing the news about the rumored new students. From what your ears had gathered from students rushed conversations while walking to and from your lessons and the occasional accidental (read: deliberate) snooping, they were international students coming from somewhere in Asia. You were quite uninterested to say the least. (Or so you tried to tell yourself). If anything, you were confused and even a little irked at the news. As rumors tend to lack factual evidence, there's is no telling how many new students you'll be getting, how old they are, when exactly they'll be arriving and last but not least WHY they are coming to hogwarts on the cusp of the first exam season of the year. How inconvenient for the new students and the teachers, to be plopped into a class and then taking an exam on it days later, in a foreign language as you can only assume English isn't their first language. You became so invested in the news however, that you just HAD to solve it. You had to figure out all the answers. You saw it as a challenge: a riddle if you will. This always happens when new rumors surface. You try to convince yourself that you just don't care, that you remain unbothered at all times. But your Ravenclaw spirit sees this as a brain game. You just love the rush of sneaking around and discovering the truth before everyone else. You never share what you discover though, it's just a personal accomplishment that you record in your journal. Sometimes you've gotten into a couple sticky situations but nothing terrible or detention worthy. Just a "Miss L/N, why are you pretending to be a gargoyle above the gardens?" Or a "Can you please stop smelling people's closets, we assure you we will find whoever is taking our gillyweed on our own. " You were so close to solving the last one too. Your money is on one of the Weasley kids. You could've sworn that they left a trail of fallen wet Dill leaves that they used to replace the gillyweed that led all the way back to the Gryffindor common room.

Your steps are quick as you make the last turn to the doors of the great Hall for breakfast, and your quick pace is kept all the way until you're seated at the nearly empty Ravenclaw table. Usually the table is bustling with students shoving food down their throat, chatting up a storm to their friends whose heavy heads are playing a sleepy game of tag with the table or their cereal bowl. This morning, however, you decided to arrive to breakfast as early as possible, for the sole purpose of gathering more information on the new students -but don't get it wrong, you aren't interested in them: no. Your mission to gather information on them stems from the fact that you need to know what to prepare yourself for. More trouble makers? Dear God, you can barely handle the ones you have. Pompous students that strut down the hallways and expect those around them to worship the ground they walk on? Ugh we don't need anymore of those. Snobs? Bullies? Sweet innocent small children? Not likely. But there's so many possibilities. As a Ravenclaw, you prefer to stay on top of things and be prepared for whatever is thrown your way. Your grades are important to you and the last thing you need is trouble right before your exams- ESPECIALLY care for magical creatures .... It is the only class you struggle with and just can't seem to bring your grade up to the same score as all your other classes no matter how hard to try. Hagrid pities you, he really does but you can only lose your projects so many times before he has to subtract it from your grade.

"It's not MY fault the projects can run away on their own" you mutter to yourself before pouring a cup of pumpkin juice standing up to examine the other foods available. Your eyes scan the contents presented on the table over the rim of your goblet as you sip from it. After the second wizarding war in Hogwarts, they partnered with other wizarding schools to help send students all over the world to the school of their choice for different opportunities. As a result of all the different cultures and traditions, the kitchen started loading the table with more diverse food choices at every meal. Clicking your tongue at the delicious looking Ethiopian breakfast dish, you decide to go for something you've had before so you don't upset your stomach before your school day.

By the time you're putting the last bit of scrambled eggs on your plate a few more students have shuffled in for breakfast. You quickly sit and begin to eat keeping your ears open for any news of the supposed newcomers. Again, you really aren't that interested in them you swear.....

However minutes pass of you listening to a young Gryffindor complain about the girl she likes not noticing her, suddenly a conversation that carried over from the Hufflepuff table caught your attention.

"Seven?!" A voice exclaimed.

"keep your voice down!"

You turned your attention to two girls, one Hufflepuff and one Gryffindor. You recognized the first voice to be Kim Yong Sun, and the second as Moonbyul Yi; the both of them seventh year transfers from South Korea during their second year.

"Sorry. But how do you know? There hasn't been any confirmation of them arriving let alone how many there are. " Yongsun eyed Moonbyul skeptically and you can hear the click of her chopsticks being set down from where you're sitting you're listening so closely. You slightly nod in agreement to the conversation you aren't a part of. She's right. There hasn't been any confirmation or factual evidence of transfer students. Yet here you are, sitting in the breakfast hall at 6:05 am on a Friday morning listening to fourth year romance drama and the yawns of a few other students like you're life depends on it. Maybe this is stupid, you should just go back up to bed and let it go. You aren't one for caring about new students or rumors anyways. Maybe you were just looking for something to distract you from the upcoming exams: Yeah, that was probably it. You sigh picking up one last piece of toast making up your mind to take it upstairs with you. Putting the piece of toast in your mouth you place your hands on the table to stabilize you as you swing one leg off of the bench to get up.

"I know one of them." Moonbyul responds quietly. You bite your toast out of surprise causing the rest of it to fall from your mouth as you plop down to straddle the bench with a loud thud while playing hot potato with your toast attempting to save it before it hit the floor. You glace around to see if anyone noticed, but thankfully those there are much too tired to care. You swing your leg back into your seat and continuee to listen to their conversation. Everyone needs a little distraction every now and then right? A hobby? Can snooping be considered a hobby....? I guess you're really doing this again.

"You know them? Really? So they're from South Korea too?" Yongsun asked while beginning to eat again.

"Yep. But I only know one of them pretty well, his name is Kim Seokjin and he's in my year. The rest of them I've only met a few times through him. "

Yongsun pondered what was said before speaking .

"Wait- seven of them..... Are they those loud boys from the music club you were in back home? Some of them are a little young don't you think?"

Moonbyul laughed. "Yep that's them! And no- the youngest of them should be a fourth year right about now."

You figured you had heard enough information to go on and decided to actually go back to your dorm this time. You left your spot at the table and began to make your way back to your room for a quick nap before school began. Your walk back was filled with thoughts of the new kids. "Loud boys? Great." You said bitterly turning down a hall. " What does it have to do with me? From what I heard they are different ages, which will separate them a bit. Maybe none of them will even be in my house, and I won't see them. After all, there's only seven of them and a whole school of other students. I probably won't even notice them. "

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -~ •~•~•~• ~- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A fork clinked gently against a goblet, and McGonagall rose to her feet. "May I have your attention please."

The loud dinner chatter quieted down almost immediately and all heads turned to the teacher's table.

"Thank you." She placed her goblet down before returning her gaze to the students. "As many of you have heard, there are rumors going around that Hogwarts will be accepting some new students. It is my pleasure to finally put these rumors to rest- "

A chorus of disappointed sighs and groans rang through the hall, looks like they weren't getting new students after all. You almost let out a disappointed sigh but caught yourself. You didn't want new students, they were a distraction and a nuisance. Right? I mean... It was a little bit of a disappointment considering all the hard work and snooping you had been doing recently. Your friend group doesn't spread rumors much, so everything you knew had been from eaves dropping and hiding, like the gargoyle incident. You guess you sat up there for 45 minutes all for nothing.

"-excuse me please quiet down." The students all shut their mouths quickly, afraid of angering her. "As I was saying, I am happy to finally introduce to you our new students from South Korea." The hall erupted into excited chatter, girls and boys alike fawning over whether or not the newcomers were attractive, nice, mean or any other possibility, like you have been for weeks ever since you overheard the students chatting about it outside the potions cupboard you were in when the rumors first started.

Clearing her throat the headmaster gave a sharp warning look to all the students, again silencing them. "As you know, usually transfer students come on the first day of school with the first years to get sorted. However, there was a couple issues regarding the ministry during their application process, so they arrived later than usual. I have no doubts that you will all make them feel very welcome here." She waved her hand as a signal to Filtch, who scampered out of the Great Hall, returning only a few moments later with a trail of students behind him.

Seven. There was seven of them just like you'd heard about this morning. You feel your chest swell with pride. You did good for a half assed Snoop mission. They were all male, and most looked to be around your age, and you'd be lying if you said they weren't in the least bit attractive. You scowled internally knowing that their looks would be all you'd hear about during your study sessions in the common room.

The sorting hat was brought in and the sorting began. McGonagall unrolled a small piece of parchment and read off the first name "Jung Hoseok", and you held your breath as the first boy made his way up.

He looked rather pleasant. His bright face was framed with medium length brown hair, and his smile was wide. He was practically glowing as he sat on the stool. There was a few moments of silence before the hat shouted out a loud "Hufflepuff!" And the hall clapped while McGonagall lead him to the proper table.

Slowly one by one each of the other boys went up. There was another Hufflepuff, his name was Park Jimin, and a Gryffindor whose name was Jungkook. 'So far so good' you think to yourself.

The next boy to go was called Kim Namjoon. He was tall and had a pair of square modern glasses perched on his nose, the legs of the glasses covered by his messy silvery gray hair. He's a bit taller than most of the others so the stool looked comically small beneath his long legs which he had stretched out for his feet to rest on the heels of his shoes. He radiated nerves with his hands rubbing up and down his black pants and his cheek pulled in slightly as he chewed on it. You were too lost in thought to realize it had been almost an entire minute of silence when the hat announced a very loud "RAVENCLAW!"

You felt your face scrunch up a bit but clapped anyway. I mean, it's only one of them and he looks rather pleasant; not too loud or obnoxious. He looks put together-maybe a little clumsily- but still respectable. You watched him take a seat and shake hands with other students. Yeah, he seems pretty ok. Instead of paying attention you continued to study the boy. After all, there's only a small chance one of the last three would be a Ravenclaw. The next name which you recognized as the boy Moonbyul knew, Kim Seokjin but blocked it out after that.

Namjoon seemed to be getting along nicely with the other students at the table. His smile was friendly and welcoming and his demeanor calm and assured.

"GRYFFINDOR"

You clapped absent mindedly as you continued to watch Namjoon become much less nervous than he had been up on the stool. His eyes gleaming and his honey skin shining in the great Hall lights giving off a faint golden glow. He literally held the presence of a god. You were beginning to doubt what Yongsun had said about them being loud as you watched the next boy climb up to the stool, and you looked around at the other new students and noticed they all were pretty quiet and calm, aside from Jungkook whose cheeks had flushed pink as Seokjin had an arm thrown over his shoulders supposedly boasting about what you heard to be his "handsome face", and his "baby boy kookie" . You really did seem to have nothing to worry about, it was just your anxiety that made you so scared of newcomers.

"RAVENCLAW"

Again you applauded without thinking before you froze. You looked back up to the stool and watched a boy about as tall as Namjoon bounce excitedly over to Namjoon and plop down right next him with a loud "Namjoon-hyung!" Followed by a box shaped smile and a joyful giggle. His eyes were dark to match his fluffy long ish hair that looked unsually soft. He was much louder than his friend Namjoon, you could hear his introductions and laugh travel down to your seat of the table, enabling you to hear his name: Kim Taehyung. You glared lightly at him sizing him up when suddenly your glare was met with bright cheerful eyes. 'Dont blush you're not interested, dont' You felt your face contort into a look of shock and heat slowly rise to your face before Taehyung sent you a wide boxy smile that caused his eyes to crinkle into small crescents, a sight that made you flush even more - you couldn't deny he was attractive. 'no no no no no-' At the sight of your blush you heard him laugh out a loud "cute", turning your face to an even darker shade of red than you had even thought possible. Those near him followed his gaze and laughed a little bit at your red face and a few "awww Y/N"'s and "oooh get it girl" were sent your way. You quickly tore your eyes away from his and shoveled the food down your throat causing you to choke on it, your hands grasped for your drink which a panicked seatmate handed you. You chugged half of it down before sputtering out a few coughs.

"Are you okay Y/N?" The same seatmate asked with a concerned look.

You nodded noticing that most of your table had now focused their attention on you. Embarrassment now completely took over your body as you shot up from your seat so fast you hit your knee off of the table and knocked your drink over to spill all over your robes. You let out a sound of frustration but you didn't let it stop you from your mission: to get out of the great Hall and to hide under your covers until morning. You turned and walked out as fast as you could ignoring the calls and stares you felt from the table. You made it outside of the great Hall and began to sprint down the halls all the way to the common room door.

Gasping out the password you don't even wait for the door to open all the way before you push inside the common room and up the steps to your dorm room. You slam the door shut and fall on the floor, the only sound in the room being your loud labored breathing and your wild heartbeat. After a few moments your breathing calmed down and it finally hit you what you had just done.

"oh my God I'm such an idiot! Why couldn't I just let this one go? " You stood up and stomped your way to your dresser and ripped out some night clothes. "Was your life really this boring? You could've just ignored the new students. You could've just not given a damn but no. " You slammed the drawer shut and went into the bathroom to begin changing. Aggressively taking off your sticky pumpkin juice covered robes with a grunt "You just HAD to get involved in the rumors. You KNOW you can't let something go once you commit to it. You shouldn't have even committed to it. Hell, you should've stopped after you were caught snooping around the class attendance lists" You slid on your night clothes and picked up your robes to take a closer look at them with a sigh.

"now I have to wash my robes tomorrow because YOU have no self control and can't stop being nosy." You glared at yourself in the mirror, sticking your tongue out at the reflection.

Exiting the bathroom you ball up your robes and place them in your hamper. You have calmed down significantly, the steam and anger from the embarassing moment in the hall finally wearing off. With a inhuman groan you dragged your hands down the sides of your face. "He's just a boy. All he did was smile at me... And call me cute...." Your thoughts drifted off to his cute box smile, and twinkling brown eyes. You abruptly sat up with a determined look. "No. No no no no. You don't have time for crushes, you only have one more week till exams and you aren't letting your grades slip just because a cute boy happens to join your house. Just ignore him. It's easy as that. " You pull your covers down and flop into bed.

A couple hours had passed, and you pretended to sleep when all your dormmates came up to bed one by one. Eventually after some tossing and turning you sigh. Your mind is full of that stupid boy, and the way he called you cute. So much for not even noticing the new kids.

~DeepSheep

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shastelly · 5 years

Text

City - March Klance Prompts from MonthlyKlance- Day 26

Day 26 – City (Part 1 of 2)

"This place gives me the creeps."

"You've said that already, Lance." Keith grumped.

"Like five times already," Pidge added.

"Well it does." Lance whined. He felt like his skin was crawling and something was lurking around the next corner and bad things were coming and all of those other bad feeling clichés had wrapped up into a ball and splatted right into him.

"It's an abandoned city, that stretches for miles, it gives all of us the creeps." Shiro sighed. It was unnerving building after building after building of nothingness. He didn't blame Lance for feeling off.

"I'm right there with you, but please stop talking about it. Talking about it is not making me feel better." Hunk whispered.

"Sorry, Hunk." Lance felt another shiver go down his spine. Someone or something was watching them. They had come down to investigate a distress signal. They'd loaded up in Green and Black and headed down. There didn't seem to be a reason for all of the other lions and though Green was the best for doing scans, she was a little small and Black was big enough they could all comfortably ride along.

They found the distress signal embedded in a giant spire in the center of town, but apparently, they were a little late. There was no one here. It was weird, there weren't any bodies, there wasn't sign of a battle, just empty nothingness. So now they were doing some snooping trying to figure out what had happened to the people who lived here.

"They must have been about human sized. See the steps and doors are all the right size for us." Pidge commented.

"The windows are triangles." Keith frowned at the buildings and their oddly shaped eyes.

"The buildings are made of something like concrete. It's a mixture, there is some of the local stone mixed in it." Hunk commented. "I don't see any cars, wonder if they walked everywhere or there was some kind of public transportation."

"Or maybe they were just fast or maybe they flew." Lance offered sharply, still uncomfortable. "Either way they are gone. How long are we going to stay here?"

"Lance, if this is some new weapon of the Galra we need to understand what it was or what the tactic was or why all these people are gone." Allura was watching from the castle. She was saddened by the state of the planet. Empty places reminded her of what she had lost.

"I am still not able to get any scans past the atmosphere." Coran's voice spoke through the coms. "At least it is not interfering with the communications."

"I just don't see what else we are going to find here?" Lance fidgeted.

"Maybe we'd find something in one of the houses? Like a newspaper or something? Or mabye a computer?" Hunk offered.

"What about like a government center or something?" Keith tried. "I mean the signal was just in that statue in the middle of town, but maybe there's some kind of office or something?"

"All solid ideas lets split up and go check them out. Pidge, you and I will start checking the residences. Keith and Hunk search for some sort of government center or offices. Lance…"

"Shiro, I'd like to head up one of these tall buildings. I can use the scope to keep an eye on things, see if there is anyone further out or just maybe avoiding us." Lance thrummed his fingers against the sniper rifle that appeared in his hands.

"Okay, Lance,” Shiro nodded. He wasn't feeling quite as off as Lance, but he respected the kid’s instincts, and something was obviously bugging him.

Lance entered the building of his choice. It was about fifteen stories high and was one of the tallest in this part of the town. The building was open in the center all the way up to a skylight. There were balconies for each floor all around the edge. He shrugged and activated his jet pack, using it to jump up from balcony to balcony until he reached the top. Stairs were overrated. He smiled to himself. He found a door that led to a ramp that went up and out onto a flat roof. The middle was glass, but the outer edges were covered in rooftop gardens, divided into little squares, probably one for each apartment below. Lance walked the parameter and then picked a spot where he could see both Shiro and Pidge's area and Keith and Hunk's. Lance made himself comfortable and started scanning the area. The feeling of his skin crawling had slacked, but he still felt he had missed something, and he was worried.

Two varga later he was beginning to think it was all just in his head.

"Okay, so I'm still confused. It looks like everything was situation normal and then just poof, gone. No notes, no warnings, no hey something bad might happen, I haven't even found a conspiracy theory." Hunk sighed.

"We have not found any significant clues either. It's strange. I mean they activated that signal." Pidge hummed, worried.

"To just disappear, it's wrong." Allura spoke over the com.

"Lance, anything?" Shiro asked, looking up to the sky where Lance was somewhere above him in the building.

"Nope." He popped the P at the end in frustration.

"Alright, I'm calling this. Time to head back to the Lions." Shiro did not like leaving behind a mystery, but there was only so much they could do.

"So, we call it Roanoke and pack up?" Lance quipped.

"Roa…what?" Allura asked.

"Ancient earth history. It was a colony that all the people disappeared from there. No one ever figured out what happened to them." Keith answered.

"Keith got a reference?" Lance's smirk could be heard in his voice.

"I know stuff." Keith defended.

"Keith knows stuff." Pidge defended. "Weird history, conspiracy theories, mothman, bigfoot…"

"Just stop helping Pidge." Keith huffed.

"Shiro, I'm going to hang up here until you guys get to the lions." Lance announced.

"Okay, Lance." Shiro didn't think there was any reason to worry.

They were nearly back to the Lions when it all went sideways.

"Paladins! We have a Galra fleet incoming. Three cruisers and fighters." Coran called over the coms. "I have the particle barrier up."

"We can hold them until you get here, but please hurry." Allura already sounded strained.

"Double time, Paladins! Lance move it." Shiro yelled.

Lance jumped up and ran to the stairs. He took a flying leap from the top balcony and glided down to the ground floor with his jet pack. He bent his knees and landed a little roughly putting his hands down to stabilize himself. He shrieked when he felt something touch his back.

"Lance?!" Keith and Shiro yelled for him.

He spun around pulling his bayard up level as he did and came face to face with a small creature. It was about three feet tall with blue feathers and a beak. Its eyes were wide and intelligent. Its legs were human like, but it had wings and arms. It was wearing a soft pink shift and that's were Lance decided to shift to they and not it, because this clearly wasn't an animal.

"Hey, there." Lance lowered the bayard and stretched out a hand. "Hi. I'm Lance."

"Are you leaving?" The bird person chirped at him.

"Yeah. We were leaving." Lance spoke softly, the person before him seemed frightened.

"Will you take us with you? We are afraid." Two big tears rolled out of their eyes.

"Okay, who are you?" Lance asked quietly.

"Trill, I am the oldest of us. We don't know why everyone left us behind. We are afraid." Their little body had started shaking.

"Who left you?" Lance frowned.

"Mommy and Daddy and everyone. We were in our day place, where we stayed when they worked, but then something happened, and they were all gone, and we were alone. We don't have any more food and we are hungry."

"Lance are you okay?" Keith demanded.

"Yeah, but you guys head up without me. I've found some natives. I need to get them somewhere safe."

"Lance, we need you in Blue, they can wait until we return." Allura responded sharply.

"Allura, they're kids." Lance corrected. He was not just leaving them here.

"There are only three cruisers we can take them." Keith stated confidently.

"Alright, as soon as Shiro drops Keith and Hunk at the castle, Coran will come down to you with a pod to load up the children. How many are there?" Allura asked.

"Um…Trill, how many of you are there?" Lance turned back to the child.

"This many." Trill held up ten fingers and four feathers, "Oh wait, I forgot me." They added a fifth feather.

"Fifteen Allura, and Trill said they were the oldest and they are only about three feet tall, so I don't think it will be an issue for the shuttle pod." Lance provided.

Meanwhile with the lions…

"Pidge, we need you to run interference while I take Keith and Hunk to their lions." Shiro ordered.

"On it. I have something new I've been wanting to give a good trial; this will be perfect." Pidge rubbed her hands together with what Lance often called "evil glee".

"Sounds good Pidge, just be careful." Shiro worried. He flew toward the castle but kept his eyes on the Green Lion and her pilot. Black knew where she was going.

The Green Lion cloaked and then suddenly reappeared on the other side of the ships approaching. They turned to fire and the fighters moved to intercept, before they got there and before any shots hit, the Green Lion cloaked. A couple of dobashes later she appeared in a completely different sector of space.

"Pidge, either you've got some new holograms, or you've figured out how to fold space." Hunk laughed from behind Shiro, apparently, he had been watching over his shoulder.

"You like them?" Pidge smiled.

"Love them." Hunk answered.

"Very nice work, Pidge." Shiro commended. Shiro hurried to the castle and barely stopped long enough for Hunk and Keith to exit Black before turning and heading back to help Pidge.

"Guys, a contingent of fighters is headed toward the planet." Pidge called out, unable to distract all of them at once.

"I'm heading back,” Shiro called to her. "Lance, get to cover, I'm not sure if I'll be able to pull them all back."

"On it." Lance turned back to Trill. "So, is there somewhere safe you can go? Some place strong?"

"Why?" The little bird creature's feathers fluffed out and they shook again.

"There might be some trouble coming and we just want to keep you safe. I'm a Paladin of Voltron and it's my job."

Trill cocked their head to the side and chirped, "Okay. There is a place where we would go for storms?"

"That sounds perfect,” Lance smiled his approval and watched was the feathers smoothed themselves out again. "Let's get the rest of you and go there now."

Trill nodded and grabbed Lance's hand with his little one pulling him forward to a door. Inside there were fourteen more little bird creatures ranging from about a foot tall to nearly Trill's height. They were all sorts of bright colors - yellows, greens, blues, and reds were dominant.

"You are all beautiful." Lance smiled. "I'm Lance. I'm a Paladin of Voltron and with Trill's help we are going to take you somewhere safe." Lance spoke carefully noting a lot of fluffed feathers and shaking in the room. Some of them with cheeping like baby chicks and he wondered just how young they were.

"We need to go to the storm shelter." Trill announced confidently. Their little head nodding to several in the room. They moved to pick up the smallest, a little red bird. "Lance, could you carry Trex and Ywella?" Trill brushed a wing across two smaller yellow birds. "They don't walk well yet. Everyone else can walk." Trill noted proudly.

"I can do that." Lance smiled gently at the two shaking babies and gently lifted them. They were so light it felt like he wasn't caring anything at all, definitely lighter than a human baby that size would have been. "Okay Trill, lead the way."

They moved out of the building and down the street. Trill said it was only a few moments walk ahead. Lance didn't know how long a moment was on this planet, but hoped it wasn't too long.

"Lance, how's it going?"

"We are moving to the shelter." Lance responded.

"There are still two fighters in bound, hurry." Shiro warned.

"Okay." Lance looked back over his shoulder, practically expecting to see the fighters there already, but it would take them a little longer to reach them, that was if they even knew to look for them or where just scanning the planet to see why Voltron had been down there.

Trill chirped up ahead and Lance saw him pointing down. As he got closer, he could see a metal hatch of some sort embedded into the concrete surface. Lance set the little ones down and went to open the door, it was heavy and he had to strain, but he managed to get it flipped open, dropping it rather ungracefully to the ground, thankfully everyone was out of the way and it was on hinges. He looked down into the hole and was surprised to see it set up very much like the building he had been in earlier, an open area down the middle with balconies all around.

Trill made some sort of sound and about ten of the other bird children started flapping their wings and jumped into the hole, gliding down to land on the third floor down. He did not see any stairs. He hoped his jet pack could handle it. He looked back to the five remaining.

"These can't fly." Trill noted. "I can carry the three smallest, but these are too big for me." The two in question ruffled green and red feathers and made a sad little chirp sound that was almost apologetic.

"Okay, Trill, go ahead and take the littlest one there first and I will wait up here, okay?" Lance pulled his bayard and watched the sky as Trill made his first trip. He didn't have too much trouble, though he had to flap hard to get back up. Lance again worried about how young these creatures were.

"I need to catch my breath." Trill announced when he reached the top.

"Then I will take these two." Lance gathered the two, in question, "What are your names?" He asked.

"Brew." Chirped the green one.

"Pip." He barely heard squeak from the red one.

"Alright, Brew and Pip. Hold on. I have to use one hand to control my jet pack and it might not be as nice a ride as flying with wings, but I'll try." The two nodded and settled under his right arm. He jumped into the hole and activated the pack just before the landing he wanted. It was a little jerky and the little ones squawked in alarm. Pip actually managed to claw him a little, but it wasn't bad. He got his feet under him and sat them down apologizing. They cooed at him and Pip brushed a wing up against the scratches they had left that had torn into his under armor. The other children took the two, literally under wing and he jumped out and fired the pack again heading to the top.

"Trill, you ready?" Trill nodded and picked up Trex before moving down into the bunker.

Lance was watching him land when the sound of the Galra fighters approaching reached his ears. He knelt down and pulled Ywella behind him to watch for the fighters out of his scope.

"Trill, sorry to rush you, but we need to hurry, can one of the older ones get Ywella?" Lance called down. He watched the fighters approach, they weren't firing yet and buzzed overhead before turning sharply and heading back there way. It was unlikely that they weren't spotted being out in the open like this.

A little green bird child appeared at the top along with another blue one. Between the two of them they grabbed Ywella and awkwardly dove back into the bunker. They chirped and squawked, but Lance heard Trill talking to them and offering support and they yelled up when they had landed safely.

"Everyone back away into a safe room." Lance yelled. When the first fighter took a shot, he knew they'd been spotted. He fired back, moving to the door. He had to drop the rifle to get the door lifted, but once it was far enough over, he just let it fall, grabbing the rifle again and shooting off more rounds. He managed to wing one of the fighters and it wobbled off course, pulling up and away, but the other barreled toward him. He fired and moved, trying to draw the attack away from the bunker and find shelter for himself. The fighter and its blasts followed him. He ran to one of the surrounding buildings and dove forward around a corner as the warmth from a too close hit lit up his back.

"Quiznak." Lance peered around the corner and waited for the fighter to make a return, but it didn't. In fact, he didn't hear it at all anymore.

"Lance, what's going on down there." Keith's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"I have the kids in a bunker. There were two fighters, I winged one, but now they've both disappeared. I don't know if they landed somewhere or just took off."

"Why aren't you in the bunker?" Keith snapped.

"Wasn't time. I'm going there now. I'm not sure how good the signal is going to be from down there, so I'm sending you the coordinates."

"Okay, be careful, if you have Galra on foot and they saw the bunker…" Keith paused.

"I know. They'll be coming. I think I can set up a pretty good spot to cover the door once I'm down there. Just don't take too long, huh?" Lance chuckled a little nervously.

"We're doing our best." Pidge's voice cut across the conversation. "Keith, focus, we need Red over here."

"On it."

"Be safe, Lance." Hunk called, though the noises in the background indicated clear distraction.

"Lance, Coran can't get through with the pod. There are too many fighters and the pod just doesn't have the maneuverability to avoid them." Allura apologized.

"I get it, we're good for now." Lance managed to get the door opened and through a sweat inducing, muscle straining feet of acrobatics and jet pack usage, pulled the door closed behind him as he entered the bunker. He could hear the children below chirping quietly.

"Guys?" Lance tried the com. "Keith?" No answer just static. Lance sighed and began preparation to guard his position.

On the other side of the town the second fighter lander next to the downed first. The Galra soldiers climbed out and waited for the undamaged droids that had been aboard to join them.

"Commander?"

"Report."

"One fighter damaged, but we spotted a Paladin and at least one Braxarian."

"Are you sure?!" The Commander's voice nearly echoed it was so loud.

"Yes, they are hard to miss."

"I need them. Capture and bring every single one of them to me!"

"And the Paladin?"

"Bring him if you can, if not eliminate the threat. He will not stop me from getting my prize. Are you orders clear?"

"Yes sir, vrepit Sa!"

"Vrepit Sa!"

To be continued in Day 27 MAGIC

#monthlyklance #monthlyklance march 2019 #klance

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femme-blem · 5 years

Note

How about 34 for Laev then?,,, boy i really love her but picking from such prompts for a stoic character like her is hard

Just as a warning, there’s some violence in this one, but it’s brief and not super explicit. Everything ends up totally fine (for yall, anyway)

Laevatein had never celebrated anything. Not even victory in battle was celebrated - success was a given, failure was unthinkable. She has memories of her sister teaching her what little she knew about the sides of Muspell they never saw - their traditions, their music, their culture. But she and her sister never had time or reason to observe any holidays. They never went more than a few hours without training, fighting, or marching.

Most of all, Laevatein has never let her guard down.

She stands by your side as you dig around your office, pulling out presents from hidden nooks and crannies and piling them on top of your desk. Because half the heroes here are snoops, you explain. Everything about the idea of a rank-and-file soldier rummaging around their superior’s office to find gifts meant for them is so foreign and baffling that Laevatein can’t even imagine it. So she doesn’t.

Instead, she continues standing at attention, eyes scanning the rest of the office. Papers clutter nearly every surface. Books stick out from the shelves at strange angles and look to be in no particular order. Nothing like her sister’s own office had been, but still comforting in its own way.

She hears a rustling sound just past the window and tenses. Her piercing eyes scan the snow-covered bushes and trees, but the wind shaking them makes it difficult to pick out any unnatural movement.

“Not a fan of storms?” you ask casually, even as you strain to reach the top of a bookcase.

“They are unsafe. For many reasons. It is easy for enemies to lurk unnoticed.”

“Mmm, I doubt that’ll happen here.” You drag a chair over and step up, reaching the top easily. “It’s cold out, it’s the holidays, and we’re in the heart of Askr, in a castle that houses countless of the most powerful people in the worlds. Any enemies that would be brave enough to approach would have been spotted or stopped by now.”

Laevatein nods. She couldn’t argue with your logic, both because it was sound and because it wasn’t in her nature to argue. She trusted your judgment unquestioningly, but a small part of her doubted that war truly stopped for a festival. And weren’t the patrols supposed to be thinner today?

The briefest glimpse of a shadow outside. Laevatein’s hand shoots to the sword at her side.

“Laev, love,” you start. A frequent expression of yours that began as a pun and turned into something special between the two of you. It’s grown on Laevatein, though she can’t articulate why. “I’m sure whatever threat is out there can wait until after Christmas dinner.”

It’s a joke, but you say it with such warm confidence that Laevatein almost believes it to be true.

She’s glad she doesn’t.

The glass shatters. She spins and sees the glint of metal and her sword is already there, a clang sounding as the projectile glances off her blade. The assassin thrusts his dagger towards her, but the split-second opening is all Laevatein needs to plunge her sword deep into his abdomen. As quickly as it started, the confrontation ends. She doesn’t spare him a second glance before she turns back to you.

The projectile was knocked off course, but didn’t entirely miss its target. You clutch your right arm, a hiss escaping through your teeth, the throwing knife lying on the ground nearby. Laevatein swings the door open and yells for a healer.

Thankfully, enough heroes had still been roaming the halls to respond to the commotion immediately. A few had escorted you to the infirmary, one grabbed the knife to test it for any poisons or enchantments, and the rest had done what Laevatein had and conducted a thorough patrol of the area.

After an hour’s search, Laevatein had found no signs of other intruders. This should have been a relief, but she only felt an uncomfortable gnawing feeling that had only been growing as her patrol continued. It wasn’t the prickling anticipation she had felt earlier, when she had sensed something wrong. It was a deep anxiety, a restlessness that did not ease no matter how many rounds she made around the castle. Despite knowing the healers were taking care of you and did not appreciate interruptions, she had to be by your side, even if she couldn’t rationalize why. She and her blade would be of more use out here, preventing further attacks. She found herself making her way through the halls anyway.

She approached the door to the infirmary and was nearly ran into by a small blonde healer, who greeted Laevatein brightly.

“Oh, there you are! The summoner’s been asking for you. They’re just inside.”

Laevatein nodded and walked in. You sat on the cot, looking no worse for wear save for a strip of gauze wrapped below your shoulder. Your gaze snaps up at the sound of the door closing.

“Oh! H-hey, Laevatein. Where’d you disappear to?”

The gentle tease lacked its usual humor. Your tone was all wrong - was it fear?

“I was patrolling the area - to ensure there were no other threats. There is nothing to report.”

“That’s good.” You look down at your lap, fiddling with the bedsheet in your hands. “…I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I should’ve listened to you and not been so naïve, thinking nothing could happen.”

This was entirely unexpected. Laevatein had no experience in knowing what to say in this sort of situation. You don’t seem to expect an answer, though, and look back up, eyes glistening.

“Thanks to you, my injury’s much less severe than it could have been. I could’ve…” You wipe an eye and let the thought trail off. “I thought maybe you were mad at me for brushing you off, running off after that.”

“Mad?” Laevatein tested the word, considering the feeling she’d had since the attack, but it didn’t quite fit. “No. I am…unsure what this feeling is. I needed to cut down any remaining enemies. You had other soldiers to protect you, and healers tending to your wound…but…I had to see for myself. That you were all right.”

Your eyebrows rose. “Laev…were you worried about me?”

It clicked. Laevatein had been terrified. The intensity at which she searched for anyone else who might hurt you. The constant wondering as to what your condition was. The illogical impulse to barge in and stay at your side through the healing.

The other hero’s concerns of lethal poison as they picked up the knife echoing through her head.

“Yes,” she whispered.

You held out your good arm, and Laevatein closed the distance, sitting next to you and allowing you to pull her against you in a sort of side-hug. You rubbed her shoulder with your thumb. “I promise I’ll take you more seriously from now on. I…I should have kept my guard up.”

“Do not worry. From now on, that is my job.”

#hi! i had no idea how to wrap this up but i think i got it okay #laevatein #feh #drabble #holiday #christmas #fire emblem #character x reader #prompt #request #violence #please let me know if i need to add any tags!#imagines

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leal-5 · 5 years

Text

Tomb of Time and Destiny: Chapter 10, Part 1

Erza POV

Morning came faster than I was ready for. 'Other dimension or no, I'm going to wring that stupid rooster's neck...' Personally, I think I took the other dimension news quite well. At least the magic stuff made more sense now. Sort of. 'But that doesn't explain why- Argh! one thing at a time Erza, focus on finding Lucy and Levy.'

I reluctantly roll out of bed and move over to the basin of water to splashed my face. Feeling less groggy and a bit more awake, I pick up a brush and I ran through the tangles of my hair. The sun was just peeking over the land, I edged open my door and peeked down the hallway, half expecting Jellal to have posted a sentry at our doors, given our behavior the night before. But no one was there. Only the flickering, dancing torchlight moved. Juvia likely wasn't awake yet.

I edged out the door and closed it softly behind me. I moved down the corridor on tiptoes, past the door that led to the courtyard, to one of the turrets that climbed up to the wall walk at the top. Cautiously, I eased open the wooden door, pleased to see that it was not locked.

Would they be bothered if I went up there again? Surely, Jellal or one of his brothers had warned them all by now to watch out for their crazy female houseguests, willing to scale the castle walls to escape. I snickered to myself. I moved forward, gaining confidence as I did so, barely hesitating at the top. I ducked and pushed.

Nobody was in front of me, the guard already turned the corner so I took a deep breath, appreciating the cool of the evening breeze on my hot face. I closed my eyes and breathed in the familiar scents of spicy sage and sweet forest loam and warm, dusty oak. How can this place smell so right, so much like home, and yet be so wrong?

I blinked my eyes open. I was at level with most of the forest canopy, able to see for miles, to the parapets of the Phantom Lord castle, flying it's violet flag. I leaned forward, elbows on the wall, massaging my scalp, trying to ease away the tension there. Again, I picked up the scents of oak and sage, but now I could smell ripening grain. It was no wonder that Simon, Jellal's cousin, suffered so from 'lung ailments,' as Mira mentioned once- the air was thick with life here.

I tensed when I noticed a figure appear from the corner of my eye. It was Jellal, five feet away from me, hands on the castle wall, staring outward as I was. I straightened and touched my hair, which had become tousled up from the breeze.

"Your hair, do you usually wear it down?"

"If it is not in a braid," I said after a moment. "Or pulled back."

"Ahh." He looked at me from the corners of his eyes until I felt the heat of a flush climb my neck and jaw.

I hurriedly looked back to the forest, hoping he couldn't see my blush in the waning light. I'm freaking Erza Scarlet!!! It's downright embarrassing to be a blushing mess for some..some... guy.

'A hot hunk of a guy might I sa-'

"J-Jellal," I said, interrupting my own thoughts. "I wondered if we could borrow Castor and Pollux to visit any nearby towns."

"Towns?" asked a feminine voice.

I turned, knowing who was behind me already. Carmen paraded down the allure, Ava following behind.

"Goodness, you seem to be fighting the same hair battle as your sister?" she asked with a giggle. "Of course, this summer wind does nothing to help any of us," she added.

'Right,' I thought. 'Soften that dig. Neither of us missed it, did we?'

"Well, I think it's a good idea. I also want to go for a ride into town." Carmen sniffed. She glanced up at Jellal, searching his face for some reaction, but he merely nodded, almost imperceptibly. "It's been weeks since I've been out, and I really want to see to the details of our wedding ceremony."

I smiled, wanting to appear conciliatory, hoping to set her at ease a little so maybe she'd stop constantly trying to provoke me. Life was tough enough without any unnecessary enemies. "I can only imagine," I said. "How much longer until your nuptials?"

"The fifteenth of September. Generations of my family have married on that day, and all have been blessed by good fortune and many children."

"Sounds like the right day, for sure," I said with a nod.

"Why are you eager to go into town?" Jellal said, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Lucy and Levy might be there. It is the next, closest place, no?"

"I will send a messenger to look around," Jellal said. "There is no need for you or your sister to further endanger yourselves."

"Jellal," Carmen said, setting a small, delicate hand on his forearm, "You, of all people, should know the importance of family! You must allow Erza and her sister to continue their search. What if they miss their reunion by a day or two? That would be tragic."

I almost snickered out loud. 'Tragic in that we wouldn't be out of your way for good.'

"Unfortunately," Jellal said, "word reached me this evening that there are mini Phantom Lord armies all about us. Until they clear up we cannot allow anyone to leave."

"Might I remind you that my sister and I are neither a member of this household or bound to your care," I said carefully, pulling my shoulders back and lifting my head. "We're very thankful for your help, but we remain free to choose when and where we go."

A/N: Goddamn Erza!!!! Level down on the savagery!!!

His mouth dropped open a bit, and then he clamped it shut. "Be that as it may," he said, waving a dismissive hand through the air, "you are an unaccompanied female, and it is our duty to look after you."

'LISTEN HERE YOU LITTLE-'

I bit my tongue hard to keep from spewing obscenities. It would be best just to disappear when we decided the time was right. This time without any shadows.

My eagerness to leave seemed to soften Carmen a bit. She studied me a moment and then said, "Won't you come and join us for the morning reading?"

Morning reading? That sounded more like Levy's thing....listening to poetry or whatever they read wasn't my idea of kickin' back and relaxing. "I thank you for your kind invitation, but I think I'm going to check up on my sister soon. Perhaps I could join you next time?"

"As you wish," she said coolly, turning and then pausing at the turret doorway. "Will you be so kind as to accompany me?" she said to Jellal.

He pulled his warm, brown eyes from me and turned to follow her. Mollified, she disappeared, Ava following behind her, but Jellal hovered in the doorway. "There aren't coils of rope hidden beneath that armor of yours right?" he said lowly.

I let a smile spread across my face and gave a little shake of my head. "No."

"I have your word? You won't not step outside the castle?"

Man, he was stubborn. "Not today," I reasoned.

With that, he turned and followed his bride-to-be.

Juvia POV

I awakened, surprisingly not to the sound of a rooster, but to men preparing for battle. Horses whinnying, leather creaking, metal clanking together. I threw back my covers and opened the door to my room, curious to find out what the commotion was all about. Mira stood there with her hand raised mid-knock.

"Miss me?" she said teasingly. I smiled at her and moved to the side to let her in.

"What's happening?" I asked. "Who is preparing to ride?"

"Our knights. For once it's not Phantom Lord, but some other band of criminals. They took a small village under the protection of Fairy Tail, not far from here."

I frowned. That didn't sound good. Who were these guys, some sort of gang, making the most of this latest Fairy Tail-Phantom Lord conflict? I sighed and blew out my cheeks. No matter the dimension, there were always guys ready to swoop in and take advantage of a situation.

We arrived in the courtyard just as the men had mounted up. Gray was leaning down, accepting a flower from Ava, then he straightened to bark orders at his men as she backed away. The horses, excited by the scent of battle on the wind, circled endlessly, fighting their masters. Gray wheeled his gelding around and caught my eye, held it for a moment as if silently asking, 'You'll stay here, right?'

I frowned a little but gave him a tiny nod. The last thing he needed right now was to be worrying over me.

Gray and his brothers returned their attention to the men. They raised their arms, pointing to the sky, and the men came into formation. Two by two, all eighteen of them galloped out the gates, and I felt the ground beneath my feet rumble.

'Juvia will die if she has to spend another moment cooped up in her room.' I thought, walking in the opposite direction of where our bedrooms were. Since I couldn't go out to search for Lucy and Levy in town, what should I do? Hang out with Ava and her posse?

"Juvia would rather die." I muttered. Up ahead I spotted Ava chatting away with her girls. "Nope, Juvia's gon' die."

I picked up the pace and quickly found myself lost. I tentatively knocked on a few doors, but they were all empty. "What?" I muttered, glancing around. "Does Juvia have the plague or something?"

I could still hear Ava's voice from the courtyard. I shivered and kept moving. I couldn't get through this hallway fast enough. I raced to the next nearest door, relieved when I unlatched it and escaped. I ducked into the next corridor, expecting another row of rooms. But it was a massive, dimly lit room.

In the corner, a fire smoldered in the hearth, having chased away the morning's brief chill. Two big windows let the morning light in. We had stepped into the inviting room before I spotted him, lounging on a large horsehair settee, staring back at us with mild interest.

"Mister Simon!" I said, horrified to be discovered snooping. This must be Simon's sickroom.

"No, no," he said, gesturing at me as if to say calm down. "It is quite all right, Miss Lockser." He lowered his book to his lap, and when he smiled, I realized just how down he looked. I wondered if he was thinking about his cousins, galloping off to a battle that should have been his own, if it wasn't for his sickness. He may as well have been a patient in the cancer wing of a hospital, simply biding his time.

A wave of sympathy washed over me. He was obviously a sweet guy, and not much older than me. "Juvia will leave you to your reading." I started to back away.

"I think I'd prefer your company for a moment. Please." He gestured to a chair beside his. I met his gaze and realized that despite his frail appearance, he had the bearing of a young lord. There would be no arguing with him. I moved to the chair and folded my hands in my lap, staring at him as boldly as he was staring at me.

"You probably wonder why I don't ride with my cousins." he said, each word a sigh of long-held frustration.

"No, Juvia means...you are obviously not well...."

"Indeed I am not." Even in those few words, I could hear the wheeze in his breath. He chuckled lightly. "The way you speak is amusing. Is it common in Bellum?"

I frowned a little and looked away, embarrassed. "I-it is not. J-Juvia apologises, it is just her manner of speaking."

"Please don't apologize! I didn't mean it in a rude way! I think it's very interesting!"

My eyes widened slightly but I still smiled at him. "May Juvia ask...what is it that bothers you?"

"Are you educated in the art of medicine?"

Yeah, the art of Walgreens and Urgent Care. "A bit," I hedged.

"Lung trouble. The doctors say that I am full of water."

"Ahh," I said, as if I understood what the heck he was talking about. "If you don't mind, can you tell Juvia what your symptoms are?"

He smiled and laid his book on a small table beside him. "Surely a lady as comely as yourself wouldn't want to speak of such things."

"Try Juvia."

He stared at me, confusion lowering his brow. Maybe not all slang phrases have reached this dimension.

I translated. "Juvia is most interested to know. Maybe she might find some small way to help you."

He looked at me hard then and shook his head a little. "I am not seeking a bride."

He thought I was after him? For what, his money? I raised my brows. "That is of great relief to Juvia since she is not seeking a husband, she has no intentions of staying here for long. Juvia only wants to locate her sisters."

His brows lifted, and he smiled a little, as if he had never heard such a thing from an unattached female. Perhaps he hadn't. Not seeking a husband? What else did the girls here have going for them? No studies, no working. It made me feel a little sorry for Ava. Maybe I should cut her some slack....

"When I wake up in the morning I can barely breathe," he began to tell me, staring back at the fire again, "My servant has to thump my back to break up the mucous, to which I cough so hard that sometimes I wish for death."

Hmm. Sounds a bit like the asthma Levy and I had as kids. I remembered well the horrific feeling of suffocation.... I shook my head at the memory. I sure am glad that we outgrew it years ago.

He leaned back and returned his gaze to me, as if that might be enough to make me run for the hills, but I simply stared back.

"As the morning goes on," he finally went on, "the coughing eases, but this dreaded wheeze stays with me, reminding me of my illness with every breath of every day."

"Does your nose run? Do your eyes water?"

He nodded, clearly puzzled by my questions. His eyes were ringed with deep purple, testimony to his nightly battles to breathe-and possibly to allergies that set him off in the first place. Or it might have been caused by his sleep being so disrupted....

"Do you run a fever? Are you hot?"

He shook his head, then shrugged one shoulder. "I sweat a lot when I cough so violently. But it is not a fever."

"And your appetite? Do you want to eat?"

"At times, but my breathing makes it a chore." He lifted an arm and studied it, as if seeing for the first time how bony he had become.

"What have the doctors told you to do?"

He shrugged and glanced at the fire. "Not much, though they are more than happy to take my uncle's gold for every visit."

"Does steam help at all?" I thought of our old guardian, tenting our heads with a towel and making us sit over a bowl of boiling water when we were all stopped up. It was uncomfortable, but it did get things moving again.

"They never suggested such a thing." he said, studying me with an edge of hope in his eyes.

I eyed the chair on which he lounged. "How often are you on that seat each day?"

He raised one brow. "Most of the day, everyday I'd say."

"Do your symptoms change depending on where you are? Do they get worse when you come in here from your bedroom?"

He thinks my questions over. "My nose and eyes tend to run, but I assumed it was from the smoke."

"That is possible." A familiar voice said from the door. "Or you might be allergic to horses. And lounges covered in horse hair."

"Erza!" I said in delightful surprise.

Simon looked towards the doorway where Erza was leaning on. "Allergic?"

Hmm, maybe that word isn't in use.... "It simply means that being near horses or couches made with their skins might irritate you and your lungs."

His eyes opened wider with understanding.

"You can be allergic to horses, or hay, or cats, or pollen." Erza continued while stepping in and surveying the room.

"Pollen?"

'This dimension doesn't even know pollen?'

"Erm.. That fine dust from the trees that is so thick this time of year. Even grass or weeds. Maybe your doctors have not yet heard of this. It is quite common in Bellum." Yes, we were lying through our teeth, but we wanted him to give our words some weight in case we could actually help him.

I rose and went to the small bookshelf, running my hand over the thick, odd goat-leather bindings. It took me a moment of staring at the covers before I realized that I could actually read this wierd language too.

"Do you read, Miss Lockser?" he asked, interrupting my reverie.

"Well, yes," I said, before I thought it through. I dragged my eyes toward him. Being schooled enough to read in this era was probably rare, even for the guys. "But not as much as my sister Levy."

But he was smiling in delighted surprise. "Books are my constant companion. My uncle has little use for them. My cousin's can read only a few pages before they fall asleep each night. "

Erza and I chuckled.

He regarded us and then took a slow, wheezy breath. "Do tell, how does one avoid daily things such as horses when one lives in a castle? Or dust from the trees?"

I took a survey of the room before I responded his question. "It is difficult. But Juvia thinks she and her sister know of some measures that might bring you some relief. Are you willing to try one or two of them?"

"I don't see why not."

"Great!" I said with a small bounce, my exuberant response shocking him a little. "Juvia means, very well. We shall begin tomorrow!"

"Why not now?"

I blinked in surprise. "Well, all right. Please, summon someone who can assist us." We're gonna need a little help in here.

He reached behind himself and pulled a rope. My eyes followed it to the ceiling, where it disappeared through a small hole. In a few moments, a footman appeared.

"Macao, Juvia and Erza going to help me today."

The servant did not react. Perhaps that was what they strived for-no reaction, just obedience.

"Don't be shy, tell him what to do."

Erza tapped her lips, thinking. "Is this where you like to spend your days? Is there another room with more air? More windows?"

"No, I'm afraid this is the best, and I'll admit, it's my favorite."

"All right, then. I will need you to do exactly as we say for a week, no matter how crazy it sounds. Are you willing to give us that much time?"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "I might be dead tomorrow, but whatever time I have left is yours."

Erza returned his subtly flirtatious smile. They weren't serious about it, of course. It was just for fun. "Good. Then Macao here better get some help. We need this room cleared out, from top to bottom, and then the maids will need to come and wash every inch of it, from top to bottom, with hot, hot water, and some sort of cleanser.... What do you use to disinfect?"

Both men stared at Erza blankly. "She means when there's been something messy, what do the maids use to clean, make it safe again?" I amended.

"Ah, lye is what you're after. And vinegar."

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miss-rori · 6 years

Text

Attempted Assassination Chap 1

Masterlist

Warnings: none

So this WAS supposed to be a one shot, but I got carried away. This is now a series, so enjoy!

The one short was for @tastypowermove

Also, a quick little heads up that Rossa is my own character, and I hope you like her because she’s not going away lol

You had finally done it! After a terrifying risk to get there, you found yourself stepping on new ground. The Surface. Your hands coiled around the straps to your backpack in excitement. The sack held everything that you deemed necessary for survival. You began to stroll with a pep in your step, a new conviction filling your being.

Thump

The corners of your vision started to dissipate until the blackness took over completely.

You weren’t sure how long you were unconscious for, but you came to in what felt like seconds. A splitting headache threatened your skull when you opened your eyes. Why was it so bright? Details of your surroundings made themselves known as your sight adjusted.

“You idiot!”

Your ears caught a male voice outside the door immediately. Heart picking up speed, you frantically looked for an escape route. Whoever was continuing to scold someone behind that door didn’t sound friendly, and you weren’t staying around to find out.

A window. It was large and you could easily fit your body through it. You scrambled to your feet, running to the glass savior. You unhatched it with ease. The breeze hit you heavenly, but this was not a ‘smell the roses’ occasion. With a leg out the window, you gazed down. That was a long drop, would you even survive if you fell?

The door to the room opened and was quickly slammed shut. Your eyes snapped to the source of the noise. You looked like a child that just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. There stood a pale man with white hair and matching scandalous clothing. He was no Hylian, that much was clear.

“And what do you think you're doing,” he remarked and marched to you. His ice-cold fingers wrapped around your arm and yanked you back inside. “This is unacceptable behavior, and I will not condone it.”

Your brows furrowed. “And what makes you think I care what you ‘condone’? Who even are you?” Maybe your tongue was a bit more sharp than usual, but that was only a side effect of your anxiety and confusion.

A growl was sent your way, causing you to contract from the sound to the best of your ability. His grip tightened on you. “How dare you disrespect a Lord in his own castle? You are downright insufferable,” he spat like venom. You wouldn’t admit it, but those words stung a bit. A moment of silence went by when you hadn’t answered.

“Dinner is in five minutes. Be late and you shall receive nothing.” He left quicker than he came, disappearing behind a cluster of diamonds.

Great. Now you were in an unknown castle with a hostile Lord, not knowing how to get your time-sensitive destination. What a prick. If it wasn’t for the churning of your stomach feasting upon itself, you wouldn’t have bothered staying in the castle at all. You took a few calming breaths before exited the room.

A long, intricate hallway laid out in front of you. Hopefully, you could just follow it and find the dining area.

After a while of speed walking, you came across a woman that pointed you in the direction. You would’ve assumed she was a servant, but she was dressed too nicely for that. She could be a friend or lover of that guy.

You did end up finding the dining room in no time, turns out you were heading the right way the whole time. The Lord turned to look at you with a glint of amusement in his dark eyes.

“Just on time. I’m shocked.” His tone was a bit mocking, but you tried your best to push that aside. “I was sure I’d have to dine in front of you.”

You offered him no words in response, only a scoff. He motioned a hand to the chair in front of him as if beckoning you to sit at the table with him, which you did. There was a huge elephant in the room, and you wished to address it. There had to be a reason you were here, but he hadn’t offered you one.

“Why am I here?” There no use in sugarcoating it. As you spoke, a delicious meal was placed in front of you by a servant woman. You nodded your gratitude to her, and she seemed surprised. Her doe eyes widened a bit as she scurried off. Did he never show respect for his staff?

A grin started to tug at his lips as if he were pleased that you asked. Should that make you as uneasy as it did? “A sharp one you are,” he responded and paused, most likely for dramatic effect. Wait, did he just compliment you? He continued before you could contemplate further.

“You are here by mistake. My guards believed you to be an enemy and knocked you out. They brought you here to me. Do not fear, for I am a merciful Lord and will compensate for their foolish error.”

That explained why you blacked out and woke up here, plus him yelling at someone outside the door before he presented himself.

You nodded slowly. “Alright. What did you have in mind?” You hoped it was something you could actually work with.

“That depends. I know your kind,” he said almost threateningly as he leaned forward, ”why aren’t you in the sky?” His stare was agonizingly sharp.

You raised an eyebrow and pressed harder against the back of your chair. What did he have against your kind? “Exploration, really.” Your voice was small, but it wasn’t a lie. After a drawn-out silence, he deemed it as the truth as well.

His calculating eyes didn’t calm down, but his aggressive stance had. “You may rest here for a couple of months. That should be enough time to stick your nose around the Surface, but you must see yourself back home after. If you feel the need to go against my request, I could surely lead you to a hole in the graveyard instead.”

Was he trying to make up for your accidental kidnap or get rid of you in any sense? Maybe a bit of both. There had to be something he was keeping from you that would result in this defensive behavior. He doesn't want you down here, and you were going to find out why.

For the time being, you would lay low, but once you got the castle figured out you would stealthy learn what you need to about him. Perhaps you should leave the matter alone, but you had an aching feeling. You had to know. Good thing you would be here for a while.

The rest of dinner went by silently, and once you were done eating you were taken to the same room you woke up in.

You noticed that there was a neat and expensive nightgown waiting for you on the bed. At least the staff was thoughtful enough to bring you a change of clothes. When you changed into it, you had to admire the way the fabric caressed you. As much as you would love to let loose and stay lost in the luxury of this, you couldn’t waste the night away. There was work to do.

Tonight would mark the first night of your investigation. A black cloak was hung on a hook by the bedroom door. You slipped it over the white gown, knowing it would do a better job of concealing you into the darkness. Even if there would be less staff out during the night (you assumed), it was better to be safe than sorry. If you were caught snooping, who knew what sort of punishment would await? He already threatened your life once over dinner.

Your hand grabbed the doorknob and rested there without movement. A moment to catch your breath and calm your racing heart was in order. What you were doing was risking, and your body knew that. Once you shaky exhaled you twisted the knob slowly and opened the door with only the tiniest of creaks. It wasn’t enough to truly be worried over, but you were still on edge about it.

Looking both ways down the hall, you could confirm that there was no one nearby to catch wind of your plan. If you were lucky they would all be hidden away to rest for the night. You stepped out of your room and closed the door behind you carefully.

Then began the journey. You had no clue where you were going, but you were going somewhere. There would be plenty of time to distinguish different rooms and search them. Maybe then you'd find even a piece of evidence left behind of the man’s identity.

Perhaps an hour or two had gone by before you were actually getting somewhere. There were many useless rooms that could serve the purpose of guest bedrooms, restrooms, or storage rooms. After so much time in your personal mission, you were getting confident in your stealth. Not a single employee had come to check out noises you were responsible for.

You came across a door that was just like any other, telling yourself that this one would be the last one for tonight. There was only so much time in the night, and you were sure that you couldn't discover the whole castle before morning while also managing to sleep. You entered the room to find a library-like study. Now, this was something you could work with.

The dark room felt eerie, your stomach twisting itself. There was many books on many shelves that looks to be ancient, a desk, and boxes with the purpose of organized storage. You were convinced that if you wandered into the paths between the tall shelves you would be found in a maze for weeks. What intrigued you the most though was the desk. There was a burnt out candle that looked very used like someone spent a lot of time there and documents on top of the surface.

Jackpot! It all clicked at that moment, and your whole body straightened itself out in delight. What better way to collect the information you were looking for than writing? There had to be some indication of what type of person you were dealing with- or better yet, a name. You would accept any time of lead at this point, this was getting tedious.

The slight echoes of your footsteps on the hard floor were filled with determination. You stopped right in front of the desk and picked up part of the stack of papers there. Reading through these would be no easy task, but you would manage. Most of it was about spells, which was odd. So he uses some sort of magic and could potentially be very dangerous. You'd be sure not to cross him.

Spells. Spells. Spells. There was so many of them, and you swore that if you had to shuffle through any more you would call it quits.

Your hands froze at the next paper. It was a good thing you didn't give up just yet. This seemed to be some sort of diary entry? It was boring in short, but you found exactly what you needed at the bottom.

Ghirahim.

There is was. A name. But what was it about this name that made you question everything about the situation? You've heard it before. Up in Skyloft, there were legends of different people or events from the Surface. Of course, the Surface wasn't a truly confirmed thing, but that didn't stop people from talking. The most popular of all of them was of an evil being. The Demon Lord Ghirahim. Now it made so much sense. The attitude, title, witchcraft, stubborn behavior regarding your presence… You had to do something about this. This man was no good according to legends. If there was anything you could do to get rid of him, you would see it through.

Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of mutters outside the door of the study. A shot of adrenaline rushed through you. Someone was coming, you had to hide. You hastily put down the journal entry and rushed behind one of the bookshelves. Why was anyone awake this late? As if hoping to find a clue you scanned the area. A window was visible from your hidden position. It was slowly lighting up outside. Was it already almost morning? You thought it was only past the middle of the night. Either way, you found yourself in a mess. The door was opened and closed, the chatter making itself intelligible. You were not the only person in the room.

“I don’t understand it, Rossa,” one of the women began. You would assume this was a servant of some kind.

A familiar voice answered, “he’s a man of many mysteries. No one has really had a glimpse of what it’s like inside his mind.” That was the woman that pointed you in the direction of the kitchen the night before, the one that was dressed very nicely! Did she live here?

The woman scoffed at who you could now identify as Rossa. “You know very well it’s not like him to show kindness to strangers, let alone let them stay here. Without supervision too! She’s a sky child, there is every reason to assume trouble.” Great. They were talking about you, and this other woman didn’t seem to like you very much.

“Perhaps he knows something we do not. Though he may seem rash at times, he does not act without his own reasons. Do keep in mind that he is also your master. Any disrespect is punishable.” It also sounded like a warning as if Rossa could tell Ghirahim what was said for negative results. “Just get what he needs when he wakes.”

Shuffling was heard around the area of the boxes, which happened to be just on the other side of the shelf. Maybe you would be safe. But if these two were awake, who else was? Rossa’s words suggested that Ghirahim wasn’t awake yet, but that didn’t mind other servants weren’t. Would you manage to get back to your room undetected?

Without any more talking, you heard the women leave with whatever they came to retrieve. You waited a few minutes or so after the door was shut before coming out. This experience was a real eye-opener that you were getting too comfortable while snooping. By letting your guard down. you risked getting caught. On your first night too, you were you so foolish!

After gathering your bearings, you slipped out of the room. There was no telling who was up and about so you ran the entire way to your room in fear of having another encounter. You quickly went into your room and shakily closed the door. Your heart was racing and your body felt hot. The risk of that was almost too much to handle, but now that didn’t matter. You had gotten away with your charade, and it was time to at least get a little bit of sleep.

You lazily stripped yourself of the cloak and hung it back on the hook. The cold air nipped at your exposed flesh as you wore nothing but the nightgown. What a lovely sensation after feeling so heated because of adrenaline. A sigh escaped your lips because of it. Trudging footsteps carried you to your new bed, and you didn’t waste any time slipping under the covers. The sheets were so silky and surrounded you like a cloud. You could get used to this. Without a second to spare, your heavily eyelids closed themselves and sent you into a deep but dreamless sleep.

#loz #legend of zelda #ghirahim #x reader #demon lord #imagine #chapter 1 #attempted assassination #series #skyward sword #masterlist #miss-alys #fanfic #romance

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